Over the Rainbow
by Scotland Evander
Summary: Out of thin air, a girl appears screaming for Malfoy, of all people. She wears strange robes, knows a little too much about everyone, and refuses to be sorted. Her journey told through the Black brothers and a few others. *Part of Rewritten in Time Series*
1. Strange Girl

_A/N: This is a companion story to _Regrets Collect Like Old Friends_ that follows an OC into the past. Timeline wise, all events of this story happen BEFORE the events of _Regrets Collect_ after Draco travels into the past. Quite a few things are introduced in this story that either link or relate to the _Rewritten In Time_ series. _

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

_Edited 14 June 2013_

* * *

_**Strange Girl**_

* * *

"MALFOY!" she screamed.

Draco sharply turned the corner. He ran till his legs gave out. Falling to the ground, he reached into his pocket and brought out the last vile. He yanked out the paper, pressing himself to the wall in the empty hallway. No footsteps followed him. Taking deep breaths, he emptied his mind. The hour had to be up. He opened his eyes and it was almost as if there was an alarm in the last potion to tell him when it was time to take the next dose. The whole world was upside down, yet he was still sitting on the floor.

Popping the cork out, he drank the last one. He felt nothing, but the world righted itself. Making sure he was indeed alone, he read the incantation out loud, thinking of his eleventh birthday. Eleven was still young enough he could change who he was, change how things turned out. And he wasn't too young to seem like he was acting too old for his age.

"MALFOY!"

Draco snapped his eyes open, but didn't see anyone.

No one was allowed to change time. It was the law. Draco might not be the Chosen One, but Draco knew things. He was cunning, sly and somewhat ambitious. He might not have all the pieces, but he had enough he was sure he'd be able to take his seventeen-year-old head back to his eleven-year-old head and change things.

He felt a pull in his head and searing pain. His knees buckled, just as he heard the Dark Lord announce to the whole school, "Harry Potter is dead."

And the world went dark with one last scream of "MALFOY!"

* * *

Quietly, James and Sirius turned the corner. The corridor before them was blessedly clear of all things: people, portraits, and Mrs. Norris.

That was until…

"MALFOY!"

Sirius and James froze mid-step as a girl appeared out of nowhere. Other than her shout, there was no noise accompanying her appearance. Brought out of their stupor when the girl whirled around, James and Sirius darted behind a suit of armor, hiding from the irate girl. From one word, it was clear she was not at all pleased.

"MALFOY!" she screamed again, turning around in a full circle, her wand clutched tightly in her left hand.

James turned to Sirius and quirked is his eyebrow up, communicating silently_ Why is she calling out for Malfoy? He graduated six years ago._

Sirius let his eyes go large and shrugged. _No clue, must be barmy._

"Draco?" the girl asked softly, loosing her stance of anger and looking confused. "What the…"

Slowly poking his head out from behind the armor, Sirius watched as the girl's nostrils flared a bit as she took a deep breath in. It came out in a gasp and a whoosh. She stumbled backwards, hitting the stone wall behind her. Her eyes were still plastered to a spot on the wall opposite her.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas any more," she muttered, sinking down to the floor. Sirius frowned. The girl was American.

She began to shake her head, her haphazardly pulled back black hair falling out of whatever had been holding it back. "Oh, Draco what have you done?"

Her legs splayed out before her and she continued to stare at the wall. Without looking at James, Sirius pushed himself out from behind the amour and took a few steps towards her. Something, he wasn't sure what, was drawing him towards the girl. Getting closer, he realized how dirty she was. She was covered in grim and what appeared to be a combination of fresh and dried blood. She was not dressed for the weather. She had the tiniest shorts he'd ever seen and a very tight t-shirt on. Sirius was unable to confirm a color due to the amount of grim covering her person. He wasn't even sure if she was wearing shoes.

Not wanting to scare her too much, Sirius cleared his throat. Her whole body tensed and she clutched her wand again, but did not scramble to her feet. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him.

"Hi. You've popped out of nowhere. Many salutations to you," Sirius greeted. "I'm Sirius Black, who are you?"

"Sirius!" James hissed from somewhere behind him.

The girl's eyes snapped to James. Her face lit up. She scrambled to her feet, and attempted to get to James, only whatever she had on her feet didn't give her much traction and she fell back down.

"Harry!"

James straightened up, coming fully out from behind the armor now he knew she wasn't going to be getting to her feet anytime soon. Her face fell, eyes darting from James to Sirius. She stopped trying to get up for a moment. After what felt like a very long time, but in fact was mere seconds, she managed to get to her feet.

"Great Scott, I'm dead," she muttered, her wand suddenly clattering to the ground. She grabbed at her mess of dark hair and pulled. "Draco bloody Malfoy fucking killed me!"

"That's rather unbecoming language for a lady," James commented, extending a piece of parchment to Sirius. Taking it, Sirius looked at the three dots in the corridor. One read James Potter, one read Sirius Black and the dot in front of them read Atlanta Black. Sirius's jaw dropped.

"I made it through that freaking battle, and now I'm fucking dead," the dot of Atlanta Black ranted in front of them. "Where the hell is everyone else who died? Where's Remus? Tonks? Fred? Lily? Why are you the only two here? How did I die but Malfoy failed?"

Without allowing either confused boy to answer her, she stalked off, leaving her wand behind. Sirius snooped over and picked it up. It looked like a normal wand. Sirius slid the wand into his pocket.

"What is going on?" James whispered, sounding fearful rather than curious.

Sirius was curious, so he shrugged and quickly used his long legs to catch up to the girl. He caught up to her as she turned and started off down another corridor. She came to a dead stop as Sirius fell into step with her. Sirius felt her eyeing him. He turned to find that she was rather tall for a girl. She was almost as tall as him.

"Why are you following me?"

"You seem lost. It's clear you don't know where you're going," Sirius offered. "Also, we're not dead. Nor is Remus. How do you know Remus?"

"He's my birth father," she replied, rolling her eyes deeply like Sirius ought to know this information. "We've already had this discussion. You found it traumatic the first time."

Sirius's jaw dropped.

Even though her face was streaked with dirt and a few smudges of blood, Sirius could see the Black traits in her face: her strong bone structure, her nose was kind of like his, but not at the same time. She had the Black chin, though. However, her mouth was all wrong, as was her eyes color. In the light of the torch behind him he could see were a clear shade of amber.

Like Remus' eyes.

She gave him an odd look and began walking again, only to stop a few paces away from him.

"Where is the Great Hall?"

"The other way, sweetheart," Sirius said, trying to sound like he hadn't just been punched in the gut.

How could Remus have a kid who was his age? That made no sense. And why did she look like him and Remus. And why did she think they already had this discussion?

Oh, too many questions. Sirius's head hurt and he hadn't even gone to his first class.

The girl stalked passed him and eyed James, who was watching her wearily. She came to a stop, studying him carefully.

"You do really look almost like twins," she breathed. "Only the eyes."

Shaking her head she stopped at a junction and waited.

"Left," Sirius offered and watched as she turned left.

"I am totally creeped out. Also, we don't have time to follow a crazy bird around the castle," James hissed as Sirius made to follow the dot called Atlanta. "We've got a prank to pull off! Moony and Wormtail are waiting."

Atlanta stopped again.

"Right."

She turned right, Sirius following after her. "Then leave, finish the prank. I'm going to keep my eye on her. If we get caught, she's loony enough to get me out of detention."

James made a noise, but told him where Filch and Mrs. Norris were currently located, then disappeared. Sirius followed the girl, giving her directions as she made her way towards the Entrance Hall. She came to a dead stop when she reached it. This time she was not looking for directions. The color drained fully from her face. Again, her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing.

"No freaking way," she breathed. "It's…it's…."

She didn't finish what she was saying. She took off and clattered (she clearly had some form of footwear) down the marble staircase, heading for the main floor. She looked like she was seeing ghosts or something else bizarre as she pelted into the Great Hall. Sirius followed after her at a slower pace.

"They're gone," she was muttering when Sirius entered behind her. He pulled the door shut and turned to face her in the starlit Great Hall.

"Who is gone?"

"Everyone," she replied. "All the dead, all the mourners. It's not battle worn, broken and messy. No one is dead yet." She rounded on Sirius, sticking her nose in his face, her eyes darting all over. "And you're young. And not dead eyed and haunted."

Her mouth formed a perfect "O" and she backed up, falling onto the bench when she stumbled into it. She stared at Sirius with wide eyes.

"Oh, Draco Malfoy, what have you done?" she asked, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Who is Draco Malfoy?" Sirius demanded.

"Someone I used to know," she faintly replied. She cocked her head to the side. "What year is it?"

"1976."

"Month."

"September. We just got back to school."

"Crickey," the girl said, looking at him. "Wibley-wallabee, timey, shminey."

"Are you sure you're not an escapee of the psych ward?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure. What in blazes did he do?" she muttered. She lapsed into silence, getting an eerily familiar look on her face. Sirius cleared his throat and she jumped. "Oh, sorry. I need to see…Oh! He's still alive!"

She sprang to her feet, running at Sirius. She shook him by the shoulders.

"Dumbledore is alive! So are all of you!" She squeezed his shoulders as if to convince herself he was indeed solid. "It's a good thing I do not prescribe to the wizarding theory of time travel, but rather one of the more colorful Muggle ones."

"You're from the future?" Sirius faintly asked, still not sure how to behave. There was something unsettling about the girl in front of him. Part of him wanted to run away screaming, the other wanted to crush her into a tight hug and hush her. He figured it was the dog in him that wanted to do the hugging and comforting.

"Duh," she dragged out slowly. "I'm totally out of place, didn't you notice. Crap, I'm dirty."

She seemed to realize this for the first time. She frowned at her shirt. She let go of Sirius and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, taking a few steps backwards. She pulled the shirt away from her and beat it with her hand. Fine grey dust puffed out as she beat it. His eyes flickered to his exposed flat stomach for a moment. He was distracted mostly by the odd looking mark on her stomach. It was a crescent moon and a dog.

A Grim looking dog.

Okay, running away screaming might be higher on his list of things to do.

"And really fracking jet lagged," she went on, swaying a bit. "Now that I'm not fighting for my life, I guess it's set in that it's…wait, it'd be dinner time!"

She laughed, making herself look even more unstable. She dropped the shirt and began to dust of her shorts. Or lack of shorts. For some reason, Sirius seemed unaffected by this fact. He was mostly distracted by the sheer amount of grey dust coming off her person.

"I bet you've noticed, but I'm not from here. I came over from America to fight in the battle, even though Remus told me not to, but he told Tonks to stay home as well. She failed to listen. But they aren't dead!"

This fact seemed to thrill her. Her whole being lit up.

"Okay…no, Remus isn't dead. He's here in the castle. Tonks, though, he graduated a while ago."

"Huh? OH! Ted's not dead either! Oh, I don't exist yet. Oh. Crap. Wait, maybe I went to an alternative universe? I wonder how I'd be able to tell?"

The crazy girl cocked her head to the side and stared at Sirius with wide amber eyes.

"Sirius?"

Sirius turned and looked at the door, where Remus was poking his head into the Great Hall.

"Huh?"

"What are you doing?"

The girl made a noise of delight and scampered up to Remus. He stared at her, looking like he thought she was a dragon with two heads. She stared at him closely and began to frown.

"Huh."

"What?" Sirius asked, ambling up to her. He tried to look casual, shoving his hands into his pockets. However, he was a little wary of her reaction to his best friend. She shoved her nose into Remus' and stared into his amber eyes. His eyes went very large. She straightened up, looking at Sirius.

"That's interesting. You said it was 1976?"

Sirius nodded. The girl frowned, looking at Remus, who backed up a bit, looking more uncomfortable than he had moments before. The girl stroked her chin for a moment, frowning deeply. She rounded and approached Sirius, grabbing his chin, dragging him down to her level to stare straight into his eyes. He let her, for some unknown reason, as even though she was mental, he knew she wouldn't hurt him. He had no idea what she saw in his eyes, but she was looking delightfully confused.

Letting Sirius go, she backed up several paces and placed her hands on her hips.

"Alternative universe. All right. Take me to to your leader," she said in a strange voice, then laughed looking utterly delighted again. "I've always wanted to say that. No, seriously, take me to Dumbledore. I don't know where he is or how to get there, as I don't attend this school. I go to Dibonein, though I refused to live in Volpear, just to piss Daddy off. I aim to make the Head of the Black Family mad as hell, which makes sense, as he's not really my father, but that's a story for another day. Right now, I need to speak to Dumbledore, come up with a cover and do something productive to keep you lot alive."

She breezed passed Remus and out the door. Remus stared at Sirius, clearly asking him to explain with the look in his amber eyes. Sirius shrugged — a shiver running through him at the similarity between the girl's eyes and Remus'. Looking rather at a loss, Sirius hurried after Atlanta, who was making her way up the stairs.

"Pip, pip," she called, which sounded strange in her American accent. "Time is a wasting, dudes. Hey, is Voldy still at large here?"

"You mean, uh, Voldemort?" Sirius asked, rushing up to her side.

"Yeah. I guess he is if y'all have heard of him," she said, almost skipping up the stairs. "Oh, sorry. I'm Atlanta Black or just Lanta, by the way. I know who you are."

Remus, who was being addressed, looked baffled.

"I don't exist in this reality, though. And I don't think I will," she offered. "Interesting."

She laughed as they reached the top of the stairs.

"I sound like Luna," she joked. "I really do. That girl makes no sense, and I have a feeling anything I'm saying isn't making a lick of sense to either of you."

Shaking her head she waited till Sirius pointed her in the direction to get to the seventh floor where Dumbledore's office was located. They walked there in mostly silence, with Atlanta looking around with her eyes wide. She seemed almost like a tourist or a kid in a candy store.

"Well, here we are," Sirius said. "I don't know…"

The phoenix statue began to turn, revealing stairs. Atlanta let out a gasp of surprise and delight. Dumbledore appeared at the top and called down, "Good evening. I was wondering when you'd make your way here."

"Felt a disturbance in the force?" the girl asked, staring up the stairs.

"One could say that," Dumbledore commented.

Sirius made to follow, but Remus grabbed him.

"Ah, Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin. Why don't you make your way back to where you ought to be?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Remus quickly said, tugging Sirius backwards.

"We've just started term, best not get too many detentions," Dumbledore said, as the statue turned and sealed the stairs.

"Who was that?" Remus asked.

"I have no idea. She appeared in the hallway," Sirius explained. "Out of nowhere."

"She appeared out of nowhere?"

"Yeah. And her dot on the map claims she's Atlanta Black, which she also claims. Though, I'm not sure how much confidence we can put in her claims. She claimed you were here dad," Sirius said.

Remus sputtered and tripped over his own feet. "What?"

"She said it," Sirius said, then admitted, "I could see it."

Remus looked at him like he was the crazy one.

"I could! She's got your…well, the same color eyes as you! She doesn't have the Black eyes of grey or blue! They are the exact same shade as yours! Her nose is kinda more like yours too. And her mouth is all wrong. It looks like yours!"

Sirius's eyes lingered on Remus' mouth for a beat too long. He was only distracted when Remus covered his face with his hands and stared at him over his finger tips.

"Well, she…could be related to a Lupin, did you think of that?" Remus offered, looking uncomfortable. "I am not the only person with these eyes out there. Or mouth. Or nose. My father has this nose."

"But your eyes?"

Remus shifted, dropping his hands fully. "What about my eyes?"

"Your eyes are that way because of your furry little problem. Remember? You told me you had blue eyes before," Sirius whispered as they neared the Gryffindor Tower.

Remus frowned.

"Well, hopefully she'll stick around," Sirius said, quickly telling the Fat Lady the password. He climbed through the hole and into the common room. "I have a feeling she's a lot of fun."

"How come you've never heard of her before?"

"She's from the future," Sirius supplied. "She's not born yet."

"Atlanta isn't a very Black like name either," Remus pointed out. "Don't you guys tend to name yourselves after stars?"

"She's American," Sirius reminded Remus. "Who knows what those American Blacks do. We don't speak to them."

"How could I be her father? Her last name is Black," Remus said, his voice a little high. "Even if she is from the future. All your female cousins are married, or will be married. Are you sure you're not her father? She looks a lot like you."

"Uh, yeah. She said you were. Oh, who cares about that. We both know we're not her father. She's too old! But, she pissed her dad off by going not living she was supposed to. So, by default, I like her because I can relate."

Remus sighed deeply as if thinking was beginning to cause him pain. "Let's go to bed. Where's Prongs?"

"Bed, I think. If he made it back."

The two boys headed up the stairs to their tower dorm room, each lost in his own thoughts about the strange, dirty girl.


	2. Faux Déjà Vu

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: 15 June 2013 - Edited. Some content has changed, but it's mostly the same. _

* * *

_**Faux Déjà Vu**_

* * *

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, studying the strange child in front of him. She was looking around his office with a look of awe and wonder on her face, as if she'd never been in the office before. When he'd first spotted her, he had assumed he knew her. Granted, she wasn't as old as he figured she'd be, but she bore an uncanny resemblance to the child he'd met in 1943.

He was beginning to suspect she wasn't the same child. Her behavior was much like Calliope Riddle's when Dumbledore had first met her, but she was American. Riddle had been British.

No, she wasn't Calliope Riddle.

But, the resemblance was uncanny.

"You have never met me?" he asked again.

"I saw the top of your head once."

"But you're from the future?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. I am. From the year 1998," she said. "It was May 2, 1998 when I left. If I left. Did I leave, since I was in the same exact spot, just a different point in time? It was a Friday when I left, but by the time the Battle really got going it was Saturday. It's not Saturday, is it?"

Dumbledore frowned. "It's not Saturday. It's early Thursday morning."

"Bah," she said, flapping her hand at him. "I'll need a new birthday, then. I don't fancy the idea of turning eighteen when I've only been seventeen for six months."

She smiled, looking eerily like a combination of the two students who had brought her to his office.

"I think wizards have time travel all cocked up. But, I don't think I really traveled back in time. I think I was moved to an alternative universe, like a parallel dimension. Or something. I don't know what Malfoy was doing when I came across him. He looked to be in a lot of pain. And he was acting more ferret like than usual."

Dumbledore nodded. "Mr. Malfoy might have attempted some sort of…time travel. Tell me again, please, what you exactly saw him doing?"

The girl, who called herself Atlanta Black (which only lead to more bizarre ideas regarding her appearance), leaned back in the chair and bit down on the right hand side of her lip, knitting her eyebrows together. Dumbledore, who spent a great deal of time observing his students, knew that face. He'd watched a certain werewolf make it for the past six years. He was sure the werewolf's friends called it Think Face.

"I chased him from the Great Hall up to a corridor filled with suits. I got distracted, but when I found Malfoy again he was on the floor. He had his eyes closed and the air around him was kind of strange, but I still approached him. I didn't see anything funky in the air."

"Was anything sitting next to him?"

"Yes, actually. He had this black box, a piece of parchment and a glass vial that was empty, which he'd just dropped when I rounded the corner. I ran at him, screaming his name, then WHAM I was here. In September 1976. And it was freaking cold. Like Alaska or something. Don't you have heat?"

Pressing his fingers together to make a steeple, Dumbledore studied the girl. He had an inkling what this Draco Malfoy had done. He had heard of Dark Magic that could send things into the past with potions and incantations. If Dumbledore was correct (and he often was due to being more clever than the average human being), Draco Malfoy had sent this girl, the only near human soul, back in time with him.

Atlanta Black presented a curious and rather complex Gordian knot.

"Central heat has not been installed," Dumbledore offered. "It seems to me, Mr. Malfoy did not wish Lord Voldemort to win the war."

Atlanta sat up straight in her chair, mouth hanging open.

"You mean, Draco Malfoy changed sides? Seriously? I've known him since he was four and he's always done what his _father_ told him." She curled her lip as she spit out the word "father." She shifted in the chair and sighed, casting her eyes to the ground as she gripped the arms of the chair. "I knew he was doing something stupid because he was acting more ferret like than usual, but I didn't realize…that's what he must have done. Time travel. I wonder when he went back to?"

"He's not alive now, is he?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. He'll be born in 1980. Along with me. Or not."

"Why do you think you won't be born?"

"Well, I never got a clear story out of my birth father, but from what I understood he and, uh, his boyfriend were, well, in love with one another. Madly. Like that long term, soul mate stuff. It was strong. And, uh, from what my birth father told me…he'd been in love with… this guy since third year. I looked into his eyes tonight and saw…well, not what I used to see. When I first met the guy and then saw the two in the same room, it was so obvious. This means, uh, things are different here."

Dumbledore nodded. "You don't believe he might have been hiding it? The eyes might be a window to the soul, but you can put curtains up."

"Why would he hide it? Sirius isn't. It's obvious Sirius isn't into girls."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. She'd been rather careful to leave out names of her birth father, his lover, and the names of her parents. The only name she'd dropped (other than her own and Lord Voldemort's) was Draco Malfoy, who at some point had been a good friend, but their difference in opinion seemed to have gotten in the way at some point.

"So, you don't believe that Mr. Lupin is in love with Mr. Black?" Dumbledore asked, trying not to chuckle. He smiled a small smile at the girl when her eyes went wide.

"Remus isn't in love with Sirius," Atlanta quietly admitted. "Sirius is in love with Remus, though, I don't think he's realized it yet exactly. But, he acted different around Remus than Ha-James. His body language changed."

"That doesn't mean Mr. Lupin still won't come across your birth mother," Dumbledore quietly told her. He watched her for a moment, wondering what the full story behind her origins were. From his understanding, she had four sets of parents.

"He won't," Atlanta replied in a matter of fact tone. "Remus is a loyal, faithful guy. I got the feeling, after I figured out he was my birth father— and that my mother wasn't even my birth mother— was that Remus' short lived relationship with my birth mother was…rather out of character for Remus."

The girl blushed and looked away. She fidgeted for a moment, wringing her hands together tightly.

"My life is a mess. I sound like a soap opera," she muttered. "And only one 'parent' is still alive."

The girls eyes filled with tears suddenly. She tried to wipe them away, but a few leaked down her dirt streaked cheeks.

"Sirius died like two years ago. He was like a combination father/brother figure. He was the one who figured out who my actual father was. And shouted it loudly and over dramatically after acting strange for several days."

She paused, an odd expression on her face as she remembered. She shook her head.

"I never got the story off my mom because she went and died on me before telling me the whole story. But, I guess my actual birth mother was my father's sister. She got together with my mom and they came up with this plan to pass me off as…well, Remus is a werewolf, right?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Right, so is my mother."

Dumbledore's eyes went wide.

"I'm not a werewolf. I'm just kind of wolfy. Anyways, my birth mother was a total mess. She didn't think she could get knocked up and actually carry to term or something. Anyways, so, my mom pretended to be pregnant and then passed the kid off as her own. Hence my last name of Black. I'm part of the House of Black, the American branch of the family. Yeah?"

"I do follow."

"All right. So, I found out the guy who tutored me when I was a kid before I started school at Dibonien was my birth father after my third year. My dad sent me to the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts and…bad stuff happened and Remus freaked out for some reason. He didn't want me there, in England any longer. This was the first time I had actually met Sirius, who was freaking me out by staring. A lot. Long story short, Sirius noticed I looked kind of like Remus and put together with his reaction, jumping to the conclusion I was Remus' kid."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Yada, yada, yada, all hell broke loose in England and my mom dies. She left a note in her will about who my donated me DNA, which I got to open because I'm seventeen. Thank god I was seventeen, as if I'd been underaged, Daddy could have opened it and he would have had me thrown out of the family."

"Ah, the American Blacks do that as well?"

She snorted. "Yeah. My actual mother had already been disowned for being bitten by a werewolf, which was what lead to her being in England and coming across Remus."

"Interesting."

"My life is Muggle soap opera," she grumbled. "And now I can add time travel to my cracked out life! Brilliant!"

She flopped backwards in her chair, looking haggard. She picked at the dirt encrusted on her t-shirt.

"There's no way back, is there?" she whispered. "Not that I'm gunning to go back."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. While he did not know a great deal about time travel, he did know one was almost always stuck in the past. It was usually a one way trip.

Though, maybe…

"Have you traveled to the past before, Miss Black?"

Atlanta frowned at him. "Uh, no…"

Dumbledore frowned, lowering his hands. He gave her a long study before asking, "Are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah. I think I'd notice if I time traveled before," she said, shifting a bit. She looked at him if she thought he was a bit off his rocker.

He locked eyes with her and knew she wasn't lying.

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"No matter. I believe the best thing to do now is to figure out where do you want to go from here. Do you have a story worked out in your mind? The few time travelers I've come across always have a back story."

"Well, I guess I need to finish school. I just finished my sixth year. Literally. I turned in my last exam four hours ago," she went on. She stopped twisting her hands in her lap and began to chew on her pinkie nail.

"Would you like to start your seventh year?" Dumbledore asked. "You mentioned you were seventeen?"

"No. That wouldn't make much sense," she informed him, dropping her hand. "The Marauders are all in sixth year right now."

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side. "Is that what they call themselves?"

Absentmindedly, Atlanta nodded her head.

Dumbledore did not believe she was in an alternate dimension or parallel universe. Her basis for the theory was flawed. Dumbledore had seen how Mr Lupin looked at Mr Black when he thought no one was looking and Dumbledore was quite sure Mr Black was more attached to Mr Lupin than he was aware. Mr Black wasn't a deep thinker, so more than likely he failed to realize what was going on and so he continued to throw himself at his fellow female students as that was familiar and required not deep thinking.

Mr Lupin was likely in denial about the entire thing.

The Black in front of Dumbledore was a deep thinker. She had been quietly thinking for almost a fifteen minutes, not moving a muscle.

"I think I'll do sixth year over again," she announced. "If I'm honest, I don't think I really gave it my all last time around. I was slightly distracted by the fact there was a massive war going on in England while I was trapped safely at school in Colorado."

"You never have attended Hogwarts?"

The girl shook her head, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Sighing, Dumbledore shuffled parchment around his desk before speaking again.

"Would you like to be a transfer student? Or exchange?"

"Exchange student," she replied. "It'll be like study abroad! People do that their junior years in the Muggle world. Since the wizarding world doesn't have universities, I guess it could be….yeah. I'll be an exchange student."

"From your own school?"

"Yes, from Dibonein. I'm related to one of the founders so I know all about it no matter what time period I'm in…well, except before 1865. It didn't exist before 1865."

"I think, even though you've already met three students, we ought to change your appearance a bit. Just in case you're born in this timeline," Dumbledore offered.

The more time he spent studing her, the more alarmingly Black/Lupin she appeared. He knew the other students, especially Black and Lupin, would notice. There were also quite a few others who would take note. It'd be best to hide her key Lupin features. Frowning, he realized a name change was out of order. He was sure Sirius Black had gotten her real name off her.

"I'd suggest we change your name, but I'm against wiping the minds of my students and three already know your name."

The girl bit her lip. Think Face again. "You're right. They had a map that told them my name. I can use a different middle name, though. I don't think that strange paper showed that."

She pressed her lips together for a moment. "Dorothy. Since, as a kid I had a friend who called me Toto and I'm kinda of in Oz here."

She smiled fondly.

"And I think changing my face a bit would be fine. Just in case. Sirius looked at me funnily quite a few times. Also, I'll need a back story. I doubt I ought to go around telling people I'm the third kid of the Head of the Black Family in America. Seeing at the moment there's only two known ones. Altair and Siria Black. My mother and pretend father."

Dumbledore noted this information, filing it away for later. Dumbledore was already familiar with Altair Black. He was married to the famed Potions Mistress Circe Hilderbatch and had two children. Before Lord Voldemort had moved fully in the open, Altair Black had been attempting to enter British wizarding society. However, because his father was in charge of the family still and thought Lord Voldemort to be a crazed lunatic, Altair had gone back to America a few years ago. Dumbledore did not expect the man to remain in America after his father died and Altair took charge of the family. He wanted access to the power, influence, and wealth the British Blacks commanded.

"No, you are right. Altair Black is already known here, though he's gone back home. So, orphan? Do you know your own family tree well enough to assign yourself to someone who is dead?"

"YES!" she shouted, sounding excited. "Grandaddy had a younger brother who died, like, ten years ago. He was a bit…eccentric and didn't have much contact with the main branch of the family. So you could leave the Black features and hide the…uh…"

She went a bit red for a moment.

"That will work. Now, let's put a few strong glamours on you. We'll change the eye color first. Your eyes…"

Dumbledore faded off, looking at her eyes. They were a telltale sign if you knew what you were looking for that the girl had werewolf blood within her veins.

He studied the girl in front of him a bit longer from over the top of his half-moon glasses. "Your eyes are very…unique, so we'll make them a little less."

Dumbledore waved his wand and gave her green-grey eyes, a color more likely to be found on a Black. He changed her hair next, making it straight, rather than curly (he also cleaned it a bit). He lighted the color, so it was no longer midnight black, but rather a deep shade of mahogany. He tackled her face next, making her mouth a bit fuller, cheek bones a bit more pronounced and her nose a little longer and round. With another wave of his wand, he conjured a mirror, which he handed to her.

"Is this to your liking?"

"Fab," she breathed, studying herself. "I guess I can get away with it due to all the dirt. I bet I'll look even more different after I take a bath."

"Likely. We begin classes tomorrow," Dumbledore offered. He swept behind the seated girl, heading for the shelves behind her. "Too bad you didn't appear earlier. You could have joined the first years in the Sorting."

"No."

"Hmmm?" Dumbledore turned around, stopping his reach for the Sorting Hat.

"I don't want to be Sorted. I'd rather…well, as an exchange student, I'd rather not be associated with a single house. I've watched how the House System plays out and works for the past four or five years and I don't like it. They don't unite together and they all keep to themselves. Gryffindors hate Slytherins just because they are Slytherins and vise versa. It's stupid. I want to be able to eat at whatever table, talk to who I want to without the scorn of being attached to one of the houses."

Her green-grey eyes suddenly began to glow a bit as she got excited and ideas formed in her head. Dumbledore frowned, but let her continue.

"Yes! I'll just need guest quarters. I'll wear my own uniform from Dibonein."

"Students spend a lot of time socializing in their Common Rooms," Dumbledore informed her.

"I know. I'm sure if they are relaxing, they'll invite me along," she said, shrugging. "That's how it works at Dibonein. We don't have Houses like you do, we have Halls, but they are mostly just where we sleep at night. It's just a hallway, with a name and animal associated with it. We have common areas all over the school to socialize in, no matter what Hall we live in. We do have competitions in the halls, but nothing to do with school work or anything. Just friendly ones. It's just different, not right exactly. But, I think I'll just float around this year."

Dumbledore didn't know what to say to her. She was basically singling out and ostracizing herself.

"I understand how the whole house thing is good, Headmaster, but I know too much about what is to come of the people at this school. I know this is an alternative reality or whatever, but if I can…well, be able to speak across House lines, I think it'll be good for what's coming. As the Sorting Hat does say in times of need, we all need to unite together."

She gave him a knowing smile, so he nodded his agreement.

"What else do you need?"

"A robes to transfigure into the Dibonein uniform. A shower, soap and shampoo that smells like violets. Uh…I guess I need a trunk and books for school. Though, I might be able to borrow some from somewhere. I don't have any money, as I don't exist yet. Mostly, I need a shower."

She sagged and glanced at him, all her early excitement and force leaving her.

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed. "I'll show you to the guest wing. Are you sure I couldn't convince you to join a house?"

"Headmaster, I'll put that Sorting Hat on next year when it wakes up to sort the new first years," she said. "Right now, I want to be able to cross house lines. I think this is a turning point kind of year. Time can be rewritten."

Dumbledore pondered her last statement long after he'd shown her to her room and given her what she'd asked for. The same sentence was the last thing he had heard Calliope Riddle shout at Tom Riddle before she went missing.


	3. In the Light of Day

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: 15 June 2013 - edited and reloaded_

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_**In The Light of Day**_

* * *

It was early. No teenager would be awake at this hour, but Sirius Black was wide eyed. If he had a tail, it'd be bushy. Well, sometimes he did have a tail, just not at the moment.

And it was NEVER bushy.

He ran a hand through his wavy, tousled, black hair and felt it flop back onto his forehead. He nosily made his way down the marble stairs to the Great Hall. He didn't actually expect to see the somewhat crackers girl, but there she was, seated at the Gryffindor table. She was clean, that much was evident by how the sunlight bounced off her shiny dark brown hair, highlighting all the red tones. Unlike last night, her hair hung straight down her back like a sheet of polished wood.

As he walked towards her, he took in her robes, which were a deep shade of eggplant. They were sort of strange, he realized. Most robes all were the same style, but hers were vastly different. For one, they were fitted, showing off her slender arms. At the bottom the cuffs of the crisp white collared shirt she wore turned up and over, held with something that caught the sunlight each time she moved to turn the page of the book that was floating in front of her. The neck of the robe was the other strange thing, as it was a deep v shape, showing off quite a bit of the white shirt she wore, along with the sky blue tie, which matched the thick headband in her dark hair.

Frowning a bit, he walked closer, realizing there were several things off with her appearance in the sunlight other than her odd robes. Her hair seemed unnaturally straight for someone who'd had rather crazy, bushy, curly hair last night. Her face was also different somehow— her nose rounder and longer, her mouth fuller and less crooked. And her cheek bones looked sharper.

It was like she was a different person under all that dirt.

Sirius took the spot across from her, making as much noise as he could. She slowly raised her eyes to him, quirking one eyebrow up at him. She straightened up when she recognized him.

Sirius squinted. He could have sworn her eyes were a shade of brown last night, not greenish grey.

The girl smiled in a slow manner, sitting up even straighter to address Sirius. Sirius wasn't sure she could sit up any straighter, but clearly she could. He was instantly reminded of all the Slytherin girls, who always looked like they had metal poles rammed up their behinds to get them to sit straight.

"I'm glad I ran into you, as I ought to apologize for my behavior last night," she began in her musical sounding accent.

Sirius had never been fond of American accents— they came off rather harsh to his ears. He had never heard one like hers. The closest example he could think of was from that Muggle film that went on for five days about some war. Moony had made him watch it, who knew why. Moony thought Sirius would "relate" or something barmy like that.

Sirius did not relate.

"Oh?" Sirius asked, taking in her features of her face again. The American Blacks must not inbreed to the extent the British ones did, as her features were softer than the Blacks he knew. Though, they must, as she was definitely a Black.

"Yes," the girl said, frowning a bit. "I was suffering from the effect of Altitude Sickness."

"What?" Sirius asked, wondering what the hell that meant.

"Dibonein School is located in the Rocky Mountains," she explained, her eyes going back to the book floating near her plate, _Hogwarts: A History_. "I've been there for almost a month to prepare to come here. I took a Portkey straight here, forgetting the fact this place is at a much lower altitude than Dibonein."

"How did you get all dirty? Portkeys usually don't leave the traveler looking like they waged war on the world."

"I was dirty? Heavens," she breathed, shaking her head. "Must have been a rough Portkey ride. Crossing the ocean and several mountain ranges isn't easy."

This explanation wasn't truthful. There was a guard up in those clear light sage eyes that hadn't been there last night when she was spouting off things that seemed at the time unlikely and highly improbable.

Her insanity was more believable than what she'd said from behind her purebred mask.

She went back to reading as she ate her breakfast. Sirius scooped eggs onto his plate, his eyes never leaving the girl. He felt a wave of something every time he looked at her. It wasn't attraction, he knew that for sure. Girls were, well, girls. He kind of liked girls, but he'd never felt a tug towards them. There were just there for some snogging.

This girl tugged at him, but not in the way he had expected to feel when he finally found a girl he was attracted to in _that manner_. He wanted to protect her, shelter her and at the same time lecture her about her robes.

It was highly disturbing on at least many levels. Mostly five, fourteen and twenty.

Sirius mentally chuckled at his own joke.

The patch on the left side of her robe had _Dibonein School of Magic_ embroidered in silver, along with what he assumed was the crest of the school: a crown of olive branches around a large book, open with the words _conquistitor scientia conadunare_ across the pages.

"Knowledge seekers unite?" Sirius asked, squinting.

"Roughly," the girl agreed, flipping a page.

"So, all the stuff you were babbling about?"

"Hallucinations brought on by the change in altitude," she replied breezily. "I apologize for scaring you, or making you uncomfortable. You took it rather well, if memory serves me correctly. Thank you taking me to the Headmaster. He was able to set me straight and get me the care I needed."

"Erm, okay," Sirius said. "So, er, you're here on exchange?"

She nodded. "Yes. I applied for a program through my school and got a full scholarship."

"Oh. Okay." Maybe American Blacks were poor? Sirius sure as hell did not know. He'd never met an American one. "Are you going to be, er, living in Gryffindor?"

"No."

"Huh? What house are you living in?"

"None. I don't approve of the inter-house relations here, so in order to be neutral to the inter-house wars, I'll remain outside the system. Hence, my school uniform."

Sirius eyed the uniform again.

"Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to properly introduce myself. I know your clever map told you, but I'm Atlanta Dorothy Black, or just Lanta," she said, sticking her hand out. "I'm of no formal or proper relation to the House of Black. My father was disinherited and proud of it."

Sirius reached across the table and took her hand, shaking it. He liked her a bit more now that she was so proud of the fact she was "out of the system."

"I've been disinherited, too," Sirius announced happily. "We ought to start a club."

Sirius blinked a few times, still holding her hand in his, which was freezing cold.

She laughed a small tingle sort of laugh, rolling her eyes. He stared at his hand in hers, half expecting it to start to turn blue. He felt an insane need to warm her hands up, put her to bed and wait till she was feeling better to have a good sit down discussion with her.

It was bizarre. She was clearly ill, as she crazy last night and today she was almost channeling a friendly version of his cousin Narcissa.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. He usually only felt these odd feelings towards Remus. Which, he chalked up to the fact Remus was his best mate.

"Oh, well, that's…okay," he choked out.

Under the table he stepped on his own foot. He did not get choked up and flustered in front of girls. Something was strange about this girl. Something was not right.

Maybe he was suffering from Altitude Sickness as well?

"There are quite a few oddities here," she offered, trying to extract her hand from him. "For one, you all still use quills and parchment. I'm sure the Muggles in Britain have invented pens and proper paper by now."

"Pens?" Sirius asked.

She rolled her eyes, still trying to get her hand away from him.

"Yes. They are rather…clever," she offered, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Sirius, what on earth are you doing?"

Sirius startled, releasing the girl's hand. She gracefully extracted herself from the bench and stood, showing off just how odd her robes were. While Sirius thought Dumbledore wore strange looking robes, his were not as different as this girl's. The robes the witches and wizards wore in Britain were shapeless. The outer robe the girl was wearing now was not shapeless in the least. It nipped in at her waist without the aid of belt and hugged the upper half of her body.

And once again, he had the insane need to cover her up. He did note, though, Remus' eyes remained locked on her face after he glanced at her strange get-up.

"Atlanta Dorothy Black," she said, bravely extending her hand to who ever was next to Sirius, who was too distracted by her robe to pay attention. "You can call me Lanta."

"Remus John Lupin. Never call me Remy," said the voice next to him. "I believe we met last night."

Sirius watched her color, a lovely pink flush filling her cheeks. "Not the best time to meet me. I was suffering from a combination of bad Portkey and Altitude Sickness. Dibonein, the school I attend, is located in the Rocky Mountains and I'd been there awhile before coming here. Well, it was lovely meeting you two. Maybe I'll see you in classes. And I promise to never refer to you as Remy. Or Rem even."

She snatched up her book and turned, the bottoms of her robes twirling out like a dress, and she glided out of the Great Hall, right passed Peter and James, who both did double takes. Peter's mouth dropped open.

"She seems…saner this morning. A little cheeky," Remus commented, sliding into the seat next to Sirius. James and Peter plopped down across from them.

"Is that the same mad girl from last night?" James asked. "She, well, seems cleaner."

"Though, she did shake my hand. Is that an American thing?" Remus continued, not listening to James. "I don't know much about American wizarding customs."

Sirius nodded dumbly.

"I don't think he's all there," James joked, plopping down in the seat Atlanta Dorothy Black had filled. "I think we finally found a bird who might capture our wittle Sirius."

Sirius frowned at James, missing the odd look that flitted across Remus' face. James cleared his throat, having noticed both his friends looking strange.

"So, when is the prank set to go off?"

"After the first lesson," Peter squeaked.

James smiled and the two began to discuss the brilliant set up. Sirius, though, felt like he had fog in his head. Remus elbowed him a few times, before his head managed to clear enough to carry on a discussion and just in time to mock James as he attempted to get Lily Evans to go out with him.


	4. Mad Brilliant

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. Parts drawn from ****_Half Blood Prince _****by JKR**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

_**Mad Brilliant**_

* * *

Sliding into his seat, Severus scanned the Potions class. NEWT level had scared off many, including Potter. Black and Lupin were still in the class, even though Lupin was an abomination at Potions. He melted more cauldrons than anyone else alive, even Pettigrew. Eyeing the clear potion on the table in front of him, Severus was glad he'd be working alone. The other tables were all filled with students. No one wanted to sit with Severus.

He was fine with this.

The room fell silent as the bell sounded. Severus pulled out his parchment and quill and paused, realizing someone was standing in the doorway. He could feel someone staring at him, zeroing in on the back of his head. Looking up, he stared back. He'd seen her at breakfast, sitting at the Gryffindor table. He'd heard Narcissa Black complaining about her lack of proper robes and realized how right Narcissa Black had been in this observation.

This girl's robes were…obscene. Severus had never seen robes cut as hers were.

The girl smirked at Severus, then scanned the classroom. Black gave her a cocky grin, to which she looked rather exasperated at and marched straight at Severus. She looked as if she was on some sort of mission. She reached the table, pulled out the stool and sat without asking if Severus even minded.

"Ah, we're all here!" Slughorn exclaimed, his bright eyes landing on the girl in the dark purple robes. She sat straight, her features carefully schooled.

She had the breeding of a pureblood. It oozed from her pores. Severus glanced at the other Slytherins in the room, all whom were artfully ignoring her. The only other "royal" pureblood in the room was Black, who looked almost as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"Before we start— I'm assuming you all know one another," Slughorn paused as most of the people nodded, "Why don't we have our exchange student introduce herself? Miss Black?"

Atlanta slowly rose to her feet, regarding the class with disinterest a moment before saying, "I'm Atlanta Dorothy Black. I am not a member of the Most Ancient and Nobel House of Black. Or the American House of Black. I'm just a girl with the last name of Black."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. Between her posture, the lithe of her voice and mannerism, Severus would have pegged her for an upperclass pureblood and a definite member of the House of Black.

"I'm here on exchange to learn more about British wizarding society and schooling. It was an intriguing opportunity. I attend Dibonein School of Magic, which is the only co-educational magical institution in North America. We get students from both Canada and Mexico, so our student culture is diverse. I'll be here for a year, unless I decide I really like it. Oh, and as you might have heard— I hear the rumor mill here is rather fast— I am not living in any of the Houses. I feel my neutrality will benefit my study abroad experience. I have no problem with any of you, no matter your affiliation. I aim to keep it that way."

She sat down after this announcement.

She was astute, keeping herself out of a House. It left her open to get to know all the ins and outs, socialize with anyone and figure out who would benefit her the most.

A small smirk played on Severus' lips before he realized it. He figured no one had noticed it, but then he turned to the Black sitting next to him. She wore a crooked grin.

Severus turned forwards, allowing his long hair to shield his face as Slughorn took roll and launched into his lecture.

"On the tables in front of you you'll find several potions that you'll be able to make after complete the NEWT level Potions course. Now, you'll have heard of these potions, even if you've never made them. Either of you have a guess what this is?"

Slughorn was looking between Black Number Two and Severus.

"Veritaserum," they both said, glaring at one another out of the corner of their eyes.

"Very good, very good. Miss Black, care to tell us what Veritaserum is exactly?"

"It's a potion that forces the drinker to speak the truth," she said. "People have been known to be allergic to it, thus rendering it fallible."

"Good, very good," Slughorn said happily. He looked at a loss for a moment. Severus was sure he wanted to reward Black Number Two with house points. "So, how about this one here?"

He moved to the next table that held the four Ravenclaw students. Slughorn rolled back and forth on his heels for a moment, looking at the four students. Each of the students stared into the cauldron, each looking disgusted. None of them said a word, which was odd for a Ravenclaw. Usually they were inquisitive know-it-alls.

"Sir?"

"Ah, Miss Black, yes?"

"Polyjuice Potion," she rolled off.

Slughorn looked downright thrilled. His unasked question, was also answered by Black Number Two.

"It changes the appearance of a person," she supplied, sounding almost bored. "Just add a few hairs. Though, make sure it is human. Not recommended for animal transformations."

"Correct! And, what about this one?"

Slughorn moved over to the table where Evans, Lupin and Black were seated, all staring at the cauldron that had a mother of pearl sheen to it. There was steam spooling off of the surface, which was characteristic for a love potion.

"Amortentia," Black Number Two answered. She looked as if she was having the best time of her life answering the questions easily. She looked almost…shocked. "The most powerful love potion in the world."

Black startled suddenly, almost falling out of his chair. Severus attempted not to be amused.

"Correct! Brilliant," Slughorn praised, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Ah, five points…er, extra credit."

"Thank you, sir," Black Number Two said, beaming at him. She looked rather smug as she eyed Black out of the corner of her eye. Black was looking rather freaked out, staring at the potion in front of him while both Evans and Lupin looked concerned for his mental well being.

That was a lost cause.

"There is another key characteristic to this potion. Miss Evans?" Slughorn asked, turning to Evans.

"It smells different to each person," Evans said. "As each person is attracted to different things."

"Ah, correct. Mr. Black, what do you smell?" Slughorn asked, looking bemused, since Black was still acting like a moron.

"Excuse me?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow. Black must have been very distracted to revert to pureblood manners. Black went out of his way to shed those mannerism, such as saying "excuse me" instead of "what" or the most brilliant "huh."

"What do you smell?"

"Oh, uh…well, er—dog."

"You smell…dog?"

"Uh, sure," Black stuttered, turning beet red. "Dogs smell. I like dogs."

Slughorn looked at him as if Black was insane (there was a high probity). Lupin looked rather confused, almost alarmed, by Black's answer. He kept glancing between the potion and the idiot sitting next to him. Severus felt Black Number Two raise her hand.

"Sir?"

"Ah, yes, Miss Black?"

"May I smell it?"

"Go right ahead, dear."

Black Number Two rose up to her feet and crossed the room with ease and grace. It was impossible not to watch her glide. The only way Severus was sure she wasn't gliding was the noise of her heel each time she hit the stone. She stood with her back to Severus and sniffed. She straightened up and said, "Well, I smell petrichor, cedar and pine…"

She trailed off, looking somewhat confused.

"And Christmas."

Severus wondered what Christmas smelled like to the girl. He was unaware Christmas had a definite smell.

"Petrichor?" Slughorn asked, looking baffled.

"It's the smell of rain on dry dirt. Like you get after a dry spell. Or it's just not rained in a long time. It happens a lot in— well, the desert. We get it in Southern Colorado sometimes."

"Ah, that's where you're from?"

Atlanta shook her head. "Do I sound like I'm from there? No, I'm from North Carolina, y'all."

She smiled and breezed back to her seat.

"And the last one!" Slughorn exclaimed after he chuckled at Black Number Two. He came to rest at the table with the three Slytherin students.

"Felix Felicis," Evans said before Slughorn had a chance to ask. "That's supposed to be really tricky to brew."

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. This is liquid luck. Makes you lucky. Anything you set out to do, you'll succeed till the potion wears off. Doesn't sound all that dangerous, right? Well, taken in excess, it'll cause giddiness, recklessness and overconfidence that could be a real danger. You know what they say? Too much of a good thing is bad. Also, if you take too much, highly toxic."

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" one of the Ravenclaws asked.

"Yes. When I was twenty-four. Perfect day."

Slughorn smiled at the memory, then launched into a lecture on each of the potions listing their dangers and their effects. After, the class began to brew the Draught of Living Death, a potion that would appear on their NEWT exams. Severus pulled his _Advanced Potion-Making_ book out of his bag and opened it up. It was a used copy, having belonged to his mother. Black Number Two raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Black?"

"I don't have a book," she said. "I arrived late last night and my trunk is missing. I'm not sure where it got to, but it'll take me a few weeks to replace everything. Do you have a book I could borrow?"

"Oh, yes," Slughorn said, hurrying off. He came back with a ratty copy which he handed to Black Number Two. She flipped it open, making a noise of disgust as she stared at the pages.

"I think someone barfed on this thing," she muttered. She gingerly turned a few pages. "Yuck. God, who would have thought I'd miss a freaking book."

"You miss your own copy? Because it was new?" Severus couldn't help but sneer.

"No. I like second hand books. Ones with notes into the margins. Also, if someone already wrote in it, I don't feel bad writing in it either," she replied. "Frack."

Severus quirked an eyebrow at her. "Is that an American curse word?"

"No."

He waited, but she frowned and muttered some more till she asked Slughorn for further supplies, as she had none. Severus was amazed when she suddenly produced a sliver dagger out of her sleeve.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked.

"Crushing the sopophorus bean," she replied. "More juice. Trick I was taught by—"

She stopped talking and stared at him as if she was really seeing him for the first time. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, before looking back across the room and then back at Severus.

"Something the matter?" he drawled, narrowing his eyes.

"No. Nothing. You agree, though, don't you?"

"I don't know," Severus admitted. "I've tried this potion before. I made this over the summer and made a few…alterations. But, not that one."

The girl looked interested all of a sudden. She moved her stool closer to him — giving a good whiff of whatever she used on her hair, which he placed as violets and something else flowery— and looked at his book. Her eyes went wide. She slowly looked back up at him, her light greenish eyes meeting his black ones.

"Interesting," she replied, yanking a pen from behind her ear. "Though, I think a few changes are still needed."

"True," Severus grudgingly admitted.

"Maybe a clockwise turn here?" she offered, pointing. She scribbled a few of his other thoughts down in her own book. Severus tried to feel the need to yell at her, but he couldn't help but be flattered she took his adaption of the potion so easily. It was as if she realized by simply looking at his book he was in fact brilliant.

Every ego needs a boots. Even if it was from someone named Black.

"After how many counterclockwise?"

"That…I'm not sure." She bit her lower lip a moment, tapping her nose with her writing utensil. "Odd numbers. I'll take three, you want five?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow.

"We both know it won't work if we keep going the same direction. It'll take forever to go from lilac to clear. I'm not an ace at potions, but I knew someone who was. She always said even numbers on clockwise and odd on counterclockwise. "

Severus had to admit she was right. Since his fall out with Evans, he'd yet been able to find someone who understood potions as he did. While he would never admit it, he missed having someone to bounce ideas off of that wasn't constantly thinking about the current political atmosphere.

Not that she seemed to know much. A few tricks, but he got the feeling she did not understand why she did what she was doing. Her face was open. She wasn't trying to trick or hide things from him.

"Fine. But if it blows up, I'm blaming you."

"If it blows up, we'll both be in trouble," she said, picking up her knife and crushing her bean up. Sure enough, the shriveled up bean oozed liquid.

Severus borrowed her knife and crushed his own bean up. Then added that note to his own copy.

By the end of class, neither of them had the perfect potion, but they had done better than almost everyone else in class, save Evans. Severus studied Black Number Two as she packed up her things. He'd look passed the fact she seemed to only use a Muggle pen, which she tucked behind her ear as the final bell rang. She slid her borrowed book into the expensive looking leather bag.

She had money.

Severus expected her to scamper off, but she turned and looked at him.

"You're the first Slytherin I've spoken with. Could I trouble you to know your name?"

"That's Snivillus," Black called from across the room. He came up to stand next to the girl, putting a protective hand on her arm. Severus knew this stance. It was one Lupin often took with Black when he wished to prevent him from entering into a dangerous situation and wished to protect Black.

Severus balled his fists at his side.

"I didn't ask you, Black."

Black looked like he was going to pout for a moment. Was it he was hurt she'd called him Black? He seemed familiar with her.

She clearly didn't like his tone. She was giving a rather cool look. She jerked her arm and Black's hand fell limply to his side.

Interesting.

"Atlanta, or just Lanta," she said, sticking her hand out. She was looking at Severus and ignoring Black.

Had this happened before? Someone ignoring pretty boy Black for him, Severus Snape?

"Oi!" Black shouted in disgust.

Atlanta's eyes bore into Severus'. He had no idea what she was up to, but it was greatly upsetting Black, so he shook her hand.

"Severus Snape," he replied. "I prefer Severus."

"Brilliant," she announced. She squeezed his hand a bit and let go. Her hands, Severus noted were freezing cold. He glanced at Black and Lupin.

Black Number Two turned and faced Black. She was so tall, she almost could stand nose to nose with the tall, pretty boy. Severus was a few inches taller than Black, which didn't really help out much in any way, but it made him feel a bit better. It was the lone physical trait he had up on the spiteful boy. If only he had the brawn Black had, then maybe Severus would stand a chance when Potter and Black chose to take him on in the Muggle manner.

"Out of my way. Scoot, scoot. I've got Charms," she announced, shooing Black with her hands. "Are you in Charms?"

Black frowned, like he wasn't sure what to do. Black Number Two hadn't been addressing him, but rather Evans, who nodded while looking bemused. Severus decided he quite liked the new girl. He also knew, at some point— judging by the daggers Black was glaring at him— he'd have to pay for the exchange in the classroom, but he had the perfect hex to get Black with.


	5. The Thoughts of Regulus Black

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. **

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_The Thoughts of Regulus Black_**

* * *

Regulus Black felt as if he was living in a soul sucking shadow. Sitting at the end of the Slytherin table with a good three feet between him and the next person, Regulus felt the weight of being the new heir of the Most Ancient and Nobel House of Black sitting on his shoulders.

It was horrible.

No wonder Sirius had run away.

Regulus was bitter, even after having a good two months to get used to it. Sirius left him alone in that horrible house with their crazy mother. Mother had always been…harsh. She was worst now that she'd blasted Sirius off the family tree. She had driven Father away as well. He would vanish for days at a time, leaving Regulus alone with Mother.

Mother expected things of Regulus now to uphold the family honor to the extreme, since Sirius had so abysmally failed. Mother wished things out of Regulus, things Regulus wasn't sure about. Regulus would never admit it out loud, but his mindset was similar to Sirius' mindset. He rather liked a few Muggleborns in a few of his classes. After watching his fellow first years carefully, he failed to see the difference in magical ability between a puerblood and a Muggleborn. He was forced to draw the conclusion the philosophy that his blood effected his magic was a load of crap. The more he watched in the following years, he began to think the purebloods were at a slight disadvantage. The line of insanity and paranoia in the Black family was proof they needed to do something other than to marry another pureblood distant cousin.

Their blood was poisioning them.

Genetics was something Walburga Black didn't prescribe to, as it was a Muggle science. Regulus thought it was rather fascinating and studied it in secret. It was why he had settled on the fact Andromeda was a genius for marrying a Muggleborn. For the first time in three generations, they had a Metamorphmagus in the family. It was a magical trait Blacks had been known for, but they'd bread out of themselves. It had become a recessive gene, one that needed some new material to reappear.

It needed some new blood. That that wasn't genetically similar to, related to it.

Regulus was a rebel in secret. He kept his thoughts within the confines of his mind. In public, he would never be brave enough to stand up to his mother and go against her wishes. The Black name was important to him and was something he could not turn away from. He had to protect the family name.

It was up to him. He was the last one left. He did have pride in his name, pride in the past of the Black family even if he did not agree with their…blood beliefs.

Regulus wasn't Sirius: brave to the point of recklessness. Unfortunately, he was Regulus: honor bound follower.

Regulus had long ago accepted this and did not feel sorry for himself. It was who he was, who he had been bread to be. He was the second child. He was never meant to lead.

He was the spare.

Only now he was not. He felt ill equipped and wrong footed. He had been play acting for five years. He'd seen Hogwarts as simply another extension of his home life as he was surrounded by people who were so like his mother and his family it was stifling. He loathed most of his housemates. But, he was a follower. The Hat had known it, hence why he was sitting at this table below the green banners with the silver snakes.

He had been hopeful the charade would end in two years. As the spare, after his education was complete, no one could care what he did, as long as he wasn't an embarrassment.

Casting his blue-grey eyes around the Great Hall, they landed where they often did: on Sirius Black.

He wanted to hate his brother, wanted to be mad and angry and spiteful. He wanted to scream hexes at him, curse him with the worst Dark Magic, but at the same time, Sirius was still his brother. One he missed with an ache in his chest. One he wished he could be more like. But there was a reason the Sorting Hat had put the charming, loud, outgoing Sirius Black in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin.

Sirius was brave.

Regulus— not so much.

Sirius had left home in a blaze of screams, thumps and magic. His exit from the House of Black had been Gryffindor down to the loud slamming down announcing his final exit.

Regulus had never slammed a door in his life. Sirius slammed doors ten times a day.

The moment Regulus heard that door slam for the final time, it was a death sentence. The box snap shut over his head and he was trapped, destined to be suffocated by the pureblood mania that was breaking out all around him.

He wasn't brave like Sirius. He wasn't rebellious or loud. He would quietly allow himself to be frog-marched to his pre-planned future.

He followed the rules, he was the good child, the Proper Black Child who sorted into Slytherin.

_Ah, the last Black, _the Hat whispered into his ear all those years ago. _ You're not like you're brother, are you? Not as strong. No, you're not a coward, but you're not your brother. Your bravery is quiet to his loud. You are not reckless. While you're not as cunning and ambitious as the usual Slytherin, you know what is expected of you. You know your place, so better be SLYTHERIN._

Regulus had found Sirius at the Gryffindor table after the Hat was taken off his head and knew things would never be the same between them. Sirius took House pride seriously and he'd never freely socialize, associate or acknowledge a snake.

Regulus' quiet manner was mistaken for arrogance. His fellow Slytherins were bitter that Sirius had sorted into Gryffindor and used his so called arrogance as reason to make Regulus' life hard. The "Little Prince" was shown his place often, hence why he sat alone at the end of the table with the first years and not with his fellow classmates.

Sirius ignored Regulus. He had replaced his real little brother with a better version: James Potter.

"Potter," he grumbled, noticing the messy haired kid sitting next to his brother.

It was easy to blame James Potter for the negative changes in Sirius. Regulus knew that Sirius was different from the rest of the family, but Sirius wasn't _that_ different, was he? He was still a Black. The same blood flowed through his veins that flowed through Regulus'. The two boys had been there for one another, till the day Regulus suddenly bleed green instead of red.

It had taken Regulus a few weeks to figure out it was likely Potter's fault. Potter's dislike for Slytherins seemed to drive the idiot. Regulus felt that if Sirius hadn't befriended Potter, he wouldn't be hateful and spiteful to a single house. Or have morphed into such a bully.

Remus Lupin was never spiteful and hateful towards Slytherins. He was actually _friendly_. To everyone.

Peter was just a nob.

So, at the end of the day, it was the spoiled, arrogant Potter's fault.

Regulus hated James Potter.

"You look grumpy."

Regulus startled, realizing there was a person filling the normally empty space between him and the person who dared to sit near him. It was common knowledge the Little Prince of the House of Black wasn't to be bothered unless he was being mocked, jerked, beaten, or hexed.

"Sorry," the girl said.

She didn't look very sorry. She appeared curious. Regulus stared at her and found he was having issues breathing, as she was rather pretty. Why was she talking to him? Girls, especially girls his own age, did not talk to Regulus.

"I think you're a Black, am I right?"

"Yes," Regulus said, somehow managing to find his voice and keep it steady. "Regulus Black."

He gave her a short head nod. Her eyebrow went up a bit. She was dressed obscenely and even the first years were inching away from her. Regulus would have, but he'd sat at the end of the bench. There was no where to go other than down. A Black didn't sit on the ground.

"I'm Lanta, though, with the way gossip flies all over this place, I bet you knew that already," she went on in what might have been some sort of American accent. Regulus didn't know much about American accents. Americans wizards were almost as low as Muggles as far as his family was concerned. There had been an American wizard claiming Black heritage a few years ago that sent Mother into a conniption.

Regulus gave the girl a short head nod again and went back to his plate. His heart was beating out of control. He poked the contents of his plate for a moment.

"Ah, yes, you Slytherin purebloods have no need for an American witch," she went on, though the tone of her voice remained light. "Only one Slytherin has actually spoken to me. I think it was your cousin who actually spit in my face."

Regulus sat up straight, feeling outraged. "She wouldn't do that. It's unbecoming!"

Narcissa was officially his favorite cousin. And not just because she was pretty. She was nice and not mentally unbalanced like Bellatrix. Or kicked out like Andromeda. (Who happened to be his unofficial favorite. No one was supposed to know he was still in contact with her, or had met her daughter. And husband. Or eaten at the same table with him.)

"Well, she did. I'm not even sure why," the girl mused. "Ah, I'm freaking out the firsties. Brilliant. I thought it was just something about you, as you're totally broody. Most girls seem to find hot."

Regulus blinked at her a few times, having no idea what she was trying to tell him. While he did feel hot, he doubted it was due to his so called brooding. Nor did he understand why girls would find the fact he was hot a good thing. Hot meant sweaty and sweaty usually led to smelling.

"Hot?"

"It means you're very good looking and make other people feel warm under the collar," she explained.

Regulus grunted, feeling his ears heat up. There was a good reason Regulus made sure his hair always covered his ears. They always gave him away.

He pushed the food around on his plate. Lanta pulled out a rather thick book, swished her wand and levitated the book. While reading, she began to fill her plate with food and eat, every now and then flipping pages with a finger that had a fingernail painted the brightest shade of orange Regulus had ever seen. Shaking his head, Regulus went back to pushing his food around his plate. He tried utmost not to glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was, if he dared, hot. The description felt off in his mind. He looked back at his plate. He found her very attractive. And he was rather warm.

He stabbed a potato.

"You might want to eat," she said without looking at him. "You're rather slight and sickly looking. You're not ill are you?"

She turned to him, putting him under her full gaze. He slowly looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She had the most interesting eyes he'd ever seen. They were a shade of green that looked a lot like jade stones he'd seen in some of the jewelry his relatives wore. Lanta's eyes even glittered like a gem.

"No. It's…nothing." Regulus squared his shoulders and carefully cut up his food and began to eat.

Fact was he'd been so stressed out from his mother, he hadn't been eating. Kreacher was in a right state. Regulus had assured the old Elf his cooking was not off, it was just Regulus.

"I'm glad you're talking to me," the girl said quietly, looking like she was pushing the words out of the side of her mouth. "It's been three days and I was beginning to worry no other Slytherin would talk to me. Your cousin spit in my face and Snape only speaks to me in Potions class."

Regulus put his fork and knife down. "I'm not sure why my cousin spit on you. It was uncalled for and as head of the Family, I apologize."

Lanta jerked. "You're head?"

"More or less. Father is very old and not all that concerned," Regulus admitted. "And Mother…is unwell."

"Oh," Lanta said, nodding her head.

Regulus got the distinct feeling she already _knew_ this information about his mother. He did not feel uneasy when she let that slip through her facial expression, rather he felt more at ease.

Which, unsettled him a little.

"So, you're a…fifth year?"

Regulus nodded. "That is right. What House are you staying in while you're here?"

She gave him a look. Truth was, Regulus hardly ever heard gossip. He knew there was an exchange student, but he had not heard much passed that. He deduced she was this exchange student due to the fact she was wearing strange robes that were clearly a uniform.

"I'm not. I don't like how…divided y'all get after you're sorted. The Slytherines hate the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The Gryffindors hate you Slytherines with a passion. The only neutral ground is Ravenclaw, but I doubt if I put that ratty hat on my head I'd be put there. None of you socialize across House lines. You sit at one long table together as a House, you hang out together in your closed off rooms…you go to classes with mostly your House, or one you hate."

Regulus felt something well up within him and he opened his mouth to defend Slytherin and tell her how House pride was important, but nothing came out of his mouth because at that moment he caught his brother staring at them out of the corner of his eye. Regulus cast his grey-blue eyes towards his bother's grey ones to find his brother looking at him for the first time in five years— really looking at him. There was a frown on Sirius's handsome face as his eye bore into Regulus.

Sirius was jealous Regulus had gotten the attention of the new girl. Sirius was upset that the new girl wasn't sitting at the table with him at the Gryffindor table, because to Sirius that was the best House and the only House the new girl should want to dine with.

Regulus quickly looked at Lanta, who was waiting for him to say something.

"You're right," he heard himself say. "My brother hasn't bothered to look at me for five years until tonight."

Lanta looked over to the other side of the room, her eyes slowly scanning. Regulus enjoyed that she had no clue where Sirius was. Regulus knew for a fact that over three-fourths of the female population spent each meal staring at Sirius Black and James Potter.

"Ah, so he is," she said, looking smug. "He's so freaking full of himself. I never imagined…well, we only had a short interchange. Or two." She shrugged. "This table is much quieter."

Regulus nodded. "That it is."

"Do you like your brother?"

"No," he lied. He could have told her it was complicated. He could have spent hours explaining the complex relationship and circumstances that lead to his current problems.

But, he felt she might have already known.

She nodded, looking thoughtful.

"You seem to have….have formed a rather strong feeling on him."

Lanta snorted. "I doubt you'd believe me if I told you how I judged him so quickly. I wasn't all that shocked when your cousin spit at me, either. I made a mental note to never approach a Slytherin girl in the loo."

Regulus frowned.

"Anyways, you wouldn't believe me. But, yeah, I've got a handle on him. I know the four-one-one."

"Excuse me?"

Atlanta chuckled, sticking the fork into her mouth. She let it hang there before she tugged it out. Regulus stared at her mouth as she chewed and swallowed, for some reason finding it fascinating.

"Never mind." She looked over at him and smiled. She had very straight, white teeth. "Your brother thought I was simply mad. Coo-coo." She made a noise and crossed her eyes. Snapping her eyes back to normal, she locked eyes with Regulus. It felt like she was staring into his soul. "But, you'd believe me."

She turned back and finished off her dinner. She grabbed the book and shut it, slamming it into her satchel.

"Well, Regulus Black, it was lovely to meet you. If you'd like to talk to me further, I'm sure you'll find me."

She gave him a rather dazzling smile and gracefully got up off the bench. Regulus watched her walk across the Great Hall towards the door, her leather bag swinging. She didn't get far before she was accosted by Sirius. Frowning, Regulus almost leapt up to pry his older brother off her, but she ducked Sirius and veered off, leaving Sirius looking rather baffled. She tossed herself down at the Gryffindor table across from Remus Lupin. Sirius hurried to sit down near her, but she finished whatever she wanted to say to Lupin and walked off, leaving Sirius behind.

Again.

Potter and Lupin proceeded to mock and poke fun at Sirius for a while till Sirius slumped out of the Great Hall, more than likely to search for Lanta.

He wouldn't find her, Regulus realized.

"I will," Regulus said, feeling a compelling need to go grab his Tarot cards and head to the seventh floor.


	6. Two of a Kind

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_Two of a Kind_**

* * *

Regulus Black found Lanta No Surname Given in an abandoned classroom near the North Tower. He liked the North Tower. He had Divination in a tiny circular classroom at the very top of the tower. His mother told him it was a soft subject, not one a Black ought to bother with. While a lot of what Regulus had learned the past two years in the class was useless drivel, he was going to get stick with it. He had a bit of Seer in his magical blood. Not a lot. He wasn't able to see anything in the crystal ball or make predictions, but he always knew where things and people were. For instance: finding Lanta. He had _known_ where she was. At the moment, if he tried, he'd be able to find the Dark Lord. It was how he'd managed to find Andromeda when no one else could. It was how he always _knew_ where Sirius was located.

Besides people, he would find himself looking for things: books, jewelry, potions, et cetera. He wouldn't _know_ why he was looking, but he'd find things and know he need them later. Before returning to Hogwarts, he'd walked into his father's study and opened a drawer. In it, he found an orange egg shaped box. Upon opening it, he found a tiny vial of clear liquid. While it was in his father's study, he took it knowing his father had meant for him to find it.

He had no idea what the clear liquid happened to be. He couldn't open the bottle.

He paused on his climb up the North Tower out side a door in the curved wall. He opened to find a tiny classroom. It was shaped like a piece of pie. One end was a door and the other end was a curved wall with rows of tiny windows. Lanta was seated in the center of the room, having pushed all the desks along the walls. She was brewing a potion, a cauldron and an array of ingredients haphazardly scattered around her.

It did not appear as if it was going well. The room smelled like sulfur.

She slowly glanced up at him when he entered.

"Told you you'd find me," she said, small crooked smile on her face.

His insides twisted a bit.

Lanta had changed since dinner and was dressed in Muggle clothing, her hair pulled back and tied high on the back of her head. Regulus liked the fact her hair was so straight, like his. While Regulus would never outright admit it, he was rather jealous of Sirius's wavy hair. Regulus' hair was thick, but straight and hung in his face if it got too long. He had a feeling Lanta had a similar problem with her fringe, which seemed to be in her eyes. She blew it out of her eyes.

"That I did," Regulus said, dropping down to the ground across from her. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I was attempting to figure something out. Hence the cauldron, crazy ancient book and all this random stuff."

Regulus nodded. "Why are you up here, though? And not in the dungeons."

"It reeks and I didn't fancy being cold. I'm horrible at potions. I don't know why I try. Plus, I didn't want anyone to find me."

"I found you."

"Ah, but that's because we both wanted you to," she replied vaguely. "I'm not getting anywhere. I don't even know…God, I hate Draco."

"Who is Draco?"

"Someone I used to know. He's neither here nor there, or up or down," she said cryptically. She waved her wand in the air. "_Ordopago."_ The smell vanished. "So, Regulus, what did you bring?"

Regulus didn't bother to ask how she knew he'd brought something. She pushed the cauldron aside, clearing a space between them. Regulus reached into his robes and pulled out the Tarot cards, setting them down in front of her. He looked slowly up at her to find her eyes glowing slightly. He figure it was from the moonlight pouring in through one of the windows. The light green eyes were shimmering with a silver light.

"I'd like to read your cards," he informed her, his tone formal. "I prefer Tarot cards over crystal balls and tea leaves."

"I always found tea leaves rather dodgy. I mean, how many times does a lump of nothingness look like DEATH!"

Regulus fought the loosing battle not to chuckle. "Too often."

"Well, go on. Do these cards have special meaning to you?" she asked, studying the top card.

Regulus picked up the stack and handed it to her. She began to shuffle through the stack. He noted happily she didn't breeze through the cards like many did, but rather studied the artwork carefully.

"No, actually. They found me," Regulus replied. "They are not from the wizarding world. I believe they are from the Muggle world. They were at the bottom of a crate in a shop on Diagon Alley. I found them and bought them."

Lanta nodded. "They depict fairy tales."

Regulus frowned, wondering why fairies had tales in the Muggle world.

"Things find me. I never put it that way, though. I buy things all the time and have no idea why I do it."

"Really?"

Lanta snorted. "I'd have a lot more crap if I'd been wearing my TARDIS coat when…"

"When you showed up," Regulus offered.

She nodded.

"Why weren't you wearing this…uh, Tardees coat?"

"Do you know what a TARDIS is?"

"No. Is it a Muggle thing?" Regulus asked. He'd heard whispers from his fellow Slytherins the new girl (who they never called her by her given name) was Muggle lover, mostly due to the fact she carried a Muggle writing contraption behind her ear all the time. Regulus glanced over to see it was not located behind her ear at the moment.

"Well, yes. It's a time and space traveling machine. TARDIS stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space." She said the name of the contraption in a strange voice that echoed around the room. "T- A-D-R-I-S. TARDIS. A TARDIS is a transport object that appears small on the outside, but once you step inside, it's bigger."

"Ah," Regulus said. "Like a wizarding house in a Muggle neighborhood."

"Kind of. Only it's fake. A Muggle made it up…dreamed it up as part of a story. Anyways, I have a coat I did a charm on to make the pockets pretty much almost never ending. So I can cram a lot into my pockets, but the coat doesn't look like it's got super sized pockets. Get it?"

Regulus nodded. That was a hard charm to perform. Even for a sixth year. "Rather ingenious."

"I thought so. It helped out carrying around all the stuff I felt compelled to have on me just in case."

"I know the feeling," Regulus admitted. "I've had those cards for years now and had no clue why. They felt special, but I wasn't sure why till I went to get my usual deck."

Lanta grinned. "Been there. Done that."

"May I do a reading for you?" Regulus asked, holding out his hands.

Lanta looked unsure for a second, but handed the deck over to him. He shuffled it a moment. Regulus didn't bother to ask her to think of a question. He was sure she had many. He had too many himself.

Where had she really come from? What was her full name? Why did the Slytherins— save Snape— seem to hate her? Why did his brother seem so focused on her? Why did Lupin look slightly freaked whenever he looked at her? What was her family life? How did she have such a musical sounding voice? What potion had she been attempting that reeked of rotten eggs?

Instead, he stuck to asking himself a basic, vague request: Tell me something I don't know about her.

He flipped the cards out. He used a spread he'd seen somewhere for past and present. Best way to get to know person was to have a clue about their past and present. Upon looking at the cards, he frowned.

"This is…confusing."

"If it were straight forward, it wouldn't be me," Lanta quipped. "So, what's the four one one?"

Regulus quirked an eyebrow.

"The story. The deal. The low down, information."

She was so…strange.

"The top two cards are an action and outcome. The next row has the past, present, action and outcome. The bottom is like the top. The middle line is what you've already done and the top and bottom are possibles," Regulus paused, glancing up at her. She nodded, so he continued. "The position of the cards in these rows is pretty self explanatory. Past and present. Though, your past…is your future."

Regulus paused again. The girl's greenish slivery eyes grew large. He half expected her to look upset, or confused. But, she looked impressed. He felt a flush of pride. Usually no one took what he had to say seriously.

"So what do all these cards mean?"

Regulus gazed down at the spread. He started with the center row. "Death. You're beginning a new life. One phase of your life is over and it is time to start anew."

"I take it that card isn't usually one looks for in the past?"

"Unless you're already dead."

"And the present card?"

"The Hanged 're waiting. It makes sense," Regulus said. "You sacrificed your present to come back to the past. You've adapted the best you could have, haven't you?"

"Indeed."

Regulus moved onto the bottom row.

"The Hermit is an action to take. You'll be needing to use discretion, but you'll seek counsel and take it. It's right face up. So you'll actually do planning and stuff. And you'll have a wise guide."

He looked up again to find Lanta smiling at him.

"But, there will restrictions on you. This…The Tower is upside down. That means restrictions on desires or imprisonment. You might suffer from drastic changes in your freedom and these changes will be out of your control."

"What's this card upside down mean?" Atlanta asked, pointing to the card at the top of the spread.

"The Moon. There's a need for secrecy. It makes sense, as if you're really from the future," Regulus paused, glancing up at Lanta. He expected her to react, but she was wearing the same expression he had before. So, Regulus went on, "If you're really from the future, you won't be able to be totally open with everyone."

"So, if I choose to keep this all a secret, then what will happen?"

"The Sun card, upside down. It'll lead to troubled relationships. It makes sense. If you're always secretive, someone like…say Sirius, will make your life hard for you because you're never honest."

Lanta made a humming noise in the back of her throat.

"The last row you've got The Star, reversed. That means you'll doubt yourself, you'll be stubborn and unwilling to adapt to the changes. That leads to The Devil, reversed as well. Greed, evil, all bad."

"So don't do that."

Regulus grunted.

"Oh?"

"Yes, 'oh' indeed," he muttered.

"Clear as mud," Atlanta offered.

"But, you did travel through time, didn't you?"

Atlanta slowly lifted her eyes off the cards and looked at him. "Yes. In a sense."

"You're not crazy?"

"No. I spoke the truth rather too freely and appeared rather insane to your brother and his friends. Also, I'd just come from a rather…brutal battle."

Regulus gathered his cards back up. He shuffled them again, thinking. He flipped the first card out. It was The Devil again, reversed.

"True evil. That's what you were fighting in that battle," he murmured.

"Yup. Care to guess who the evil was? He's here, too."

Regulus slowly lifted his eyes back to find hers. "The Dark Lord?"

Atlanta made that humming noise. "The battle wasn't going well for my side when I found myself in 1976."

Regulus flipped another card left. It was Death.

"So, since it was going badly…major things changed for you."

"I'd say winding up in 1976 was major. And a life altering change. Unless I can figure out what Draco Bloody Malfoy did, I think I might just be stuck here."

"That wouldn't be so bad, now would it?"

He hadn't meant to voice that question, but it slipped out. He didn't dare look up at her.

"No, not bad at all, Reggie," she said quietly. It had been a long time since someone had called him Reggie. He felt a small smile on his lips. "Now that I've found someone to confide in who won't think I'm a raving loon."

Regulus flipped the next card over. It was The Lovers, upright. Peaking up through his hair that hung in his face, he noticed she was no longer paying attention to him flipping over cards, but rather was paging through the book she'd been looking at before. He looked back down at the card and shoved it back into the pile. He knew she wouldn't know what he'd mentally asked before he flipped the card over, but he was hopeful now that he knew she didn't really want to go back to where she'd come from.

He shuffled the cards a few times before extending the pack to her. She looked up and took it from him without question. She dragged her bag to her and opened it up. She rifled through it, pulling out an odd looking contraption. He handed it to him.

"What is this?"

Lanta grinned, watching him carefully as he turned the object over in his hands. He turned the hard object over in his hands. It appeared to be a food item of some sort. It was yellow and said _Chicken McNuggets_ on the top. He raised his eyebrows up at her in question.

"Turn it over."

He did so, noticing that there were slits in the hard surface. Using his fingernail he popped one and it flipped open to reveal a green leg like thing. There were several other similar slits, so he opened each one till he had what looked like a lizard like creature.

"What is this?"

She laughed her musical laugh. "It's a Happy Meal toy from an American Muggle restaurant. It's a lizard. I think they were called transformer dinosaurs or something. I've had it for ages. It made the trip from the future with me. Clearly to come live with you."

Regulus felt flattered. He flipped it over again and noticed the bottom had a two letters written on it.

"AB?"

"My name. First, Atlanta, and surname, Black. I wrote my initials on everything when I was little."

_Atlanta Black_, he said the name in his head a few times. Not the typical Black name. As far as he was aware, "Atlanta" wasn't a star.

"We have the same last name."

"Yeah, but I doubt we're related. I'm American. And from what I was told, the people who birthed me were, well, not related to you by a long shot. The one that gave me the last name was American."

"Do I get to hear more of your tale?"

She smiled. "Why, yes, Master Black, I believe you will. But, not here. And not tonight. I'll meet you on the seventh floor, left corridor tomorrow after dinner tomorrow. Near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy."

"The one he's trying to teach trolls ballet?"

"That's it."

She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and left him alone in the room. He turned the lizard object over in his hands a few times before he pushed all the legs and head back into their original places. He slipped the odd object into his pocket, then slipped out of the classroom. As he made his way to the Slytherin Dormitories, he could not wipe the smile off his face.


	7. Sirius Thinks

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

* * *

**_Sirius Thinks_**

* * *

The two week of classes dragged by. The first prank had gone off without a hitch— well, other than all four of them wound up in detention. After six years, when the armor began whacking and tripping Slytherins, it was obvious who was behind it.

The second prank hadn't gone so well. For some unknown reason the plan to dye everyone in the school's skin the color of their house hadn't worked out. Somehow, only the Marauders had wound up colored. James was green, Peter was yellow, Sirius was an absurd shade of pink and Remus was bright blue. It took three days to figure out the counter spell to the four back to normal, as the one they'd planned to use failed to work. Sirius had no idea what went wrong, but he had an inkling Atlanta Black had something to do with it. The smirk on her face didn't fade for three days.

Sirius stared across the Great Hall at Atlanta Black. She hadn't eaten breakfast at the Gryffindor table since the first day of school. She ate breakfast at the Ravenclaw table with the blonde hair weirdo named Xeno Lovegood and a Muggleborn whose name Sirius couldn't remember. Sirius heard some of the crazy, crack pot things the three laughed over before he gave up going down early to breakfast. Half the things had to do with made up monsters and time travel.

She ate dinner with Regulus ever since that night three days after her arrival. And when he saw his brother recently, Atlanta was almost always with him.

She ate lunch at the Gryffindor table, as Remus and Evans seemed to know an awful lot about her. Sirius always just missed her. Evans, Remus and Atlanta had Arithmancy together, so they left before Sirius got out of his last class before lunch.

He should have taken Runes and Arithmancy.

"Why are you broody, mate?" James asked, plopping down across from Sirius.

"The new girl. She's sitting with my brother. Again," Sirius said. "She's not safe."

James shrugged. "Well, of course not. She's surrounded by snakes, but it's her own choice to sit there. Maybe she's Dark. She does get along with Snivels a bit too well."

Sirius grunted. Atlanta sat with Snape during Potions. And they got along, even though it was becoming clearer and clearer she was not a drab hand at potions. For unknown reasons, Snape suffered her mishaps. Slughorn was also baffled by her lack of skill, as she knew a lot.

"I'm book smart in this area because I grew up around it," Sirius had overheard her tell Slughorn. "The subtle science it lost on me. I'm a bunch of facts and figures."

Sirius had never caught her socializing with Snape outside of Potions. Sirius had managed to curse Snape several times and if she'd been around, he wouldn't have tried in case he might have hit her. As it was, Snape only managed to hex him once, and that was on the day after that first potions class. Sirius had suddenly spouted tentacles and rather clammy skin as he walked through the Entrance Hall heading to dinner. He would have been fine with it, except the clammy skin stung and the tentacles leaked some sort of corrosive liquid that caused his skin to actually blister and pop.

It was gross. So of course, the only person to blame was Snape.

Not that he could prove it.

"She's not Dark," Remus said, sounding tired as he sat down next to Sirius. "She likes your brother. He seems to understand her and her…strangeness."

"He's Dark."

"How do you know? You don't even speak to him any more," Remus reminded him. "When was the last time you paid any attention to him?"

Sirius made a noise and glowered.

"If you paid attention you would have noticed he doesn't really like his fellow housemates and he sits alone, separated from everyone. And the closest people to him are the first years."

Sirius glanced over at the table. Remus, of course, was right. Besides Atlanta, the closest person to Regulus was clearly a scared first year, who kept darting glances at the upper years fearfully. The upper years, people in Regulus's class and older, sent scathing looks down at his younger brother.

"Now that I think about it…I don't think I've ever seen him, well, with anyone," Sirius admitted. "Like in a friend based manner."

"Yeah, I've only seen the others picking on him," Peter pipped up. "Even Snivillus bullies him from time to time."

"What?" Sirius asked, outraged.

"All the other ones are worst. Snape usually just stands in the background," Evans butted in with. "McNair and Avery are the worst."

Sirius glowered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Uh, mate, you didn't care. Plus, he's a Slytherin," Peter helpfully reminded him.

Sirius fell into an aggravated silence, watching his brother. The gang of wannabe Death Eaters (or Death Eaters already) kept glancing at Regulus and Atlanta. It was clear they didn't like the fact Regulus had a friend. Or a protector, as she appeared as a wall between him and the other Slytherins. Why would he need a wall between him and his housemates? They were all the same, weren't they?

"Why would they pick on him? He's one of them," Sirius pointed out.

"Is he?" Remus asked as Atlanta and his brother got up. They walked towards the door, Atlanta hooking her arm through Regulus'. The older Slytherins all watched, a few narrowing eyes. After the pair had vanished, the group all put their heads together. Sirius frowned, getting an ominous feeling.

"Moony—" he turned to his right, where Remus had just been to find the spot empty. "Where did he go? So stealthy? Silent? "

"Where _did_ he go?" James asked. "He stopped doing that after second year."

"I bet he went to find Atlanta and Regulus," Peter offered. "He sometimes studies with them in the library. Or something. I'm not sure. They all read books."

Sirius pushed himself up and hurried off to the library. After sneaking passed Madam Pince (who had banned him from the library in his fourth year after he knocked over a few book shelves), he went Remus Hunting. It took him ten minutes, but he finally found Atlanta, Regulus and Remus all seated at a long table together in the back of the library. Atlanta and Remus were seated across from one another, while Regulus was seated a few seats away. Remus and Atlanta had their heads bent together over a pile of books.

"You know, you'd think I'd get this," she muttered quietly.

"Well, it is rather complicated. It is learning a new language," Remus offered. "You speak at least three different languages, don't you?"

"Spanish and Portuguese are almost the same thing. And Italian is very similar to the two," Atlanta offered.

"So four. You also speak English," Remus pointed out, crooked smile appearing.

"I speak two-forms of English too. American and British. Wow, I'm totally multi-langaugeal."

"I don't think that's a word," Remus offered, ever the grammar/language corrector. "I believe it would be multilingual. Or you'd be a polyglot."

Regulus snorted.

"I'm a polyglot. I like that. I sound like a magical animal of some sort," Atlanta mused.

"I guess in a manner, you are," Remus joked.

Atlanta chuckled. "Tragic. I'm only good at human language. Runes…bah humbug."

The pair fell silent. Sirius lurked a few minutes more, watching the pair. His eyes darted between Remus and Atlanta. They had very similar things they did while studying: chewing on bottom lip, sighing randomly, tugging on ear, nibbling on the pinkie finger when something got interesting.

It was fascinating and disturbing. He watched his brother for a moment, but didn't notice anything Regulus did he recognized himself doing.

Thank god.

After twenty minutes, Sirius burst out of the stacks to put an end to the studying. Flopping down next to Remus he put on his most dashing smile and plunked his head on Remus' shoulder.

"Whacha doing?" he asked, looking up at Remus under his lashes.

"Runes."

"Trying to cram my brain into a tiny tube," Atlanta offered, sounding rather frustrated.

Regulus didn't say anything.

"This is boring. Let's go do something fun," Sirius suggested, snuggling his head a bit further into the crook of Remus' neck. Partly to distract Remus, partly because it felt good.

"I find this rather fun, Sirius," Remus said, sounding like he was a forty-year-old professor. "I enjoy studying. Now hush. I don't want to be kicked out this early in the evening."

Sirius sighed, leaving his head on Remus' shoulder. Remus was rather thin and pointy, yet he had the most comfortable shoulder Sirius had ever set his head down on. Silence fell among the group, the only noise people was shuffling around and other library like noises.

Sirius glanced down the table to his brother, who was busy frowning and scribbling with his quill. His brother looked somewhat thinner and gaunter than he'd been the last time Sirius had noticed him. His cheek bones stuck out quite a bit and he seemed rather weedy. His hair even lacked the typical Black luster. He glanced over at Atlanta, who was hidden by a sheet of reddish brown shiny hair. It pooled on the table, making the area she was working in a hidden sanctuary. Sirius was about to announce he was bored again when he noticed his brother eyeing Atlanta. It was clear Regulus was attempting to stare at her without seemingly like he was staring.

Poor sap. He lacked finesse.

Quirking an eyebrow, Sirius pushed himself up off of Remus. He leaned across the table and brushed Atlanta's hair off the book she was reading.

Her hair felt like silk as it moved over his fingers.

"How can you read through your hair?" he asked.

"I'm talented. I have x-ray vision," she deadpanned.

"Huh?" Sirius asked as Regulus properly conveyed his confusion with, "Excuse me?"

Remus and Atlanta snickered together.

Atlanta sat up, flopped her hair back over her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Sirius Black, are you bored?"

"Yes."

"Well, come along, Grey-Eyed Dog."

Sirius chanced a glance at Regulus, who frowned deeply, but said nothing. Atlanta shoved the book she had been reading at Remus, telling him to take detailed notes and she'd figure it out later. She put her things away and threw her bag over her shoulder. She walked behind Regulus and messed up his hair, whispering something in his ear. Regulus kept his face smooth, but there was a glint in his eye as he watched her round the table.

"Come along, Grey-Eyed Dog. Time's a wasting."

Sirius jogged to catch up with her. "You can call me Sirius."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I'm very Sirius."

"You're a dog," was her reply.

"Why, yes I am," Sirius laughed, knowing she didn't realize just how right she was. "So, what are your plans for me?"

"Oh, this and that. These and those. No one knows," she said cryptically.

"Well, that explains everything," Sirius commented.

"Forty-two," she announced, turning a corner.

"What?"

She smiled and continued walking. Atlanta started up a staircase and continued climbing till she reached the top of it. She threw open a door and showed him into a classroom that looked it hadn't been used since the founding of Hogwarts.

"Interesting make out spot," Sirius joked.

Atlanta snorted. "I'm not making out with you. Ever. Gross."

"Why, because you've got it bad for my brother?"

Atlanta said nothing, but flicked her wand at the wall. Suddenly, the wall moved aside to reveal a pranksters dream.

"Wow," Sirius breathed, rushing forward. There were shelves of wet start fireworks, dungbombs and other random things he'd never seen before in the joke shops he frequented. "How did you find this?"

"I was poking around one night and found the false wall and that was all just there."

She came to stand next to him. She threw an arm over his shoulder, which didn't make him feel what he expected in the least. Instead of feeling giddy at being close to her, he just felt comfortable. At ease. At least he felt something. Usually when girls made moves towards him, he felt next to nothing. It was rather confusing. He kept waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. He liked girls, he really did. They were squishy and sometimes smelled nice.

He'd expected to feel _something_ with Atlanta due to his mild obsession. Fixation. No, interest was a better word.

"Who else but the current prankster in chief would enjoy this wide array of tricks?" she asked.

She squeezed his shoulder.

"Now, I'm giving this special room to you on one condition." She dropped her arm and rounded on him, pointing a finger at him. "You must not use any of these things in a malicious manner. If you do, you will rue the day you got on my wrong side, got it Grey-Eyed Dog?"

"Sirius."

"Fine. You got it, Sirius?"

"Yes."

"I want you to swear."

"What?"

"Swear you will only use these things for laughs, fun and not to cause harm or mortification to anyone other than one of the Marauders or myself."

"Hey, how do you know our group's name?"

"I'm special, Sirius," she replied. "Now, promise. Swear."

Sirius stuck his hand up and said, "I, Sirius Orion Black, swear that I will never use any of the products located in this room to cause harm or mortification to any one other than one of my good friends: James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Oh, and Atlanta Black."

Atlanta nodded, dropping her hand.

"All right. Remember, pranks and being a bully are two very different things. Blowing something up in someone's face is different than turning their hair pink."

"Got it."

She gave him a sharp look that reminded him of McGonagall. He smiled at her again and she rolled her eyes.

"Charm can only get you so far in life, Sirius," she informed him, walking passed him and heading for the door.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Lanta," he offered, throwing her his most charming smile. When she didn't react unfavorably to his use of the shorted name, he went on, "I'm rather brilliant at what I do."

Atlanta draped herself in the doorway. "You know, they tell me you're a ladies man, but I have a hard time seeing it."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair. He gave her a lopsided smile. "I love birds."

"Yeah, but you also enjoy using Remus as a pillow a little too much," she commented, pushing herself off the frame and sweeping out of the room, leaving a rather confused Sirius Black behind.


	8. A Prank is Born

**Disclaimer: "Monster Mash" was written by Bobby Pickette, Leonard L Capizzi. I did not write it, nor will I claim I did. I did write it in an accent. As always, If you know it, I don't own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_A Prank is Born_**

* * *

In the past two days, Sirius spent any free moment in the Chamber of Mischief (a play on the Chamber of Secrets the Slytherins were always whispering about as a bedtime story), sorting through the various pranking items. Some objects had spells on them to do wacky things, like quack like a duck or turn the person holding the item into a ferret.

There was an odd array of ferret related joke items for some reason.

"So, what are we going to do with all this stuff?" James asked, looking around the room, the glee of a small child on his face.

"No idea. But our first prank using this stuff must be stellar," Sirius said, studying an odd red rubber circle thing. "What is this?"

"Whoopee cushion," Remus said without even looking over at Sirius. "There are crates full of dishes in here. They look like the dishes in the Great Hall."

Sirius turned around, glancing at the crate Remus was looking through. It was filled with gold dishes that looked identical to the ones they'd eaten dinner off of an hour ago.

"Why are those even in here?" James asked. "You can't prank with dishes."

"There's a crate full of silverware and goblets," Peter offered, yanking out another crate out from a closet opposite the shelf of pranking materials. "I don't think they've been opened in eons."

Peter blew the dust off the crate, studying it.

"Oh!" Remus cried, sounded excited.

"What is a whoopee cushion?" Sirius asked James.

James shrugged.

"Ah," Remus breathed, reading over something he found in the box of dishes. "That's rather clever."

"What?" James asked as Sirius threw the whoopee cushion back on the shelf.

"The dishes are charmed to dance to music," Remus went on. "_Gambill Tandi."_

"Sounds Italian," James offered, picking up one of the plates and flipping it over in his hands.

"It's not. It's bastardized French. _Gambiller_ means 'to dance' in French. The end might be Latin. The wand movement is very complicated."

"These sing," Peter said from the other side of the room. He was holding an old sheet of parchment. "_Succiabo_."

Peter handed the parchment to Sirius who felt his eyes glaze over at the complicated wand movements to cast the spell for the entire crate of silverware and goblets.

"You know…" Remus trailed off, frowning a bit. He kept that mischievous glint in his eyes, so Sirius knew he hadn't given up on his idea, just thought it would get them in trouble and did not go with his Prefect image. So he was wobbling on telling them for fear they'd agree.

Sirius grinned.

"What? Tell us, tell us, tell us," Sirius begged, bringing out his puppy dog eyes. "Please."

Remus huffed, but looked back at the paper. "I think I could master the spell to at least get the dishes to dance."

James snatched the parchment from Sirius. "I can do this. I'll do the singing."

"What songs do you know?" Remus asked, eyeing James with mistrust.

"Er—"

"James doesn't know any songs except those we sing as kids," Peter offered helpfully. "Right?"

Remus stood up, brushing the dust off his robes. He crossed the room to where James stood with the parchment. He read it three times then handed it back to James.

"We could do the school song," Remus said. "Everyone knows it has no set tune."

"Or, you could just ask me what you ought to do."

The four boys turned to find Atlanta in the doorway, smiling. She pushed herself off of the doorway and glided across the stone floor towards the group of boys.

"I am a walking song library," she offered, smiling. "Granted, there's not a TON of popular music right now that's good…well, that I think is good…the sixties were pretty good. Popular wizarding standards all suck, no offense, but till the Weird Sisters come around, wizard music will be sorely lacking."

James looked uncomfortable and mouthed "Weird Sisters" at Sirius who shrugged.

"So, Muggle music. The Muggleborns will appreciate it."

She took the parchment from Remus, who had extended the one with the song spell on it. She looked impressed as she looked through it. She cocked her head to the side for a moment.

"Wow, this is complicated. I wonder who wrote this. Have you ever heard it before?"

She was looking at Remus, the well known bookworm and reader of books.

"No. I know there are charms to make objects move and sing, but this is a whole new level of those charms," Remus said, his eyes glittering. "Someone brilliant invented those spells. Why they were hidden away in here is…a mystery."

Atlanta nodded. She placed a hand on her hip and got an unfocused look in her eyes. Remus put on Think Face. Sirius and James, after gagging, turned and began to sort through the shelves again.

"Monster Mash," Atlanta suddenly exclaimed, her green-grey eyes glowing a little in the dim lighting of the room. "That can be the theme of this prank. Monster Mash. I know there's a song about it."

"Theme?" Peter asked, looking lost

"Halloween!" Sirius shouted, slapping Peter on the back.

Remus frowned for a moment, not noticing Peter and Sirius. "I think you're right."

"What's Monster Mash about?" James asked. "Not a monster bashing things. Or mashing."

Sirius had vision of a three headed dog mashing potatoes in a large bowl.

"Frankinstien," Remus and Atlanta said together.

"Who?" James, Sirius and Peter asked together.

"He's a monster. It's not important. Do you think you could get the music down for it?" Remus asked, turning towards Atlanta.

Atlanta frowned. "I can hum it, but I can't sing too well. I was never put into music lessons like my sister and brother. I love music, though."

Remus hummed, putting on Think Face. He looked a bit sad as he looked at Atlanta, while still wearing Think Face. It was Sad Think Face.

"It'd be funnier if there was a guy with a funny accent singing," Atlanta suggested.

"I'll do it!" Sirius cried, waving his arms over his head. This caused both Atlanta and Remus to startled. They'd gone off to their own Think World, hence the need to wave his arms. "Just teach me the words."

Atlanta nodded. "Okay. Oh! You can also make fake ghosts. Here."

Shoving the paper into her pocket, she rushed to the bookshelves and pushed them apart and vanished.

"Did you know they did that?" James asked Sirius.

"Uh, no," Sirius said, going over to where Atlanta vanished. Before he could head back and investigate, Atlanta popped out, holding several globes that has silvery mist in them. "What are those?"

"Ghost globes," she replied. "Haven't you seen these before? You tell the globe what you want the ghost to look like, or draw it a picture, and for at least thirty minutes, there'll be a ghost or a faint image of what you want."

"Interesting," Sirius said.

"Remus and I will write the lyrics down to the song. You guys all get on thinking up what kind of monsters you want mashing around the Great Hall on Halloween," Atlanta said.

James took the globes from Atlanta and grinned at her. "Where have you been our whole lives?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "In the future, dumbo."

Atlanta grabbed Remus and hooked her arm with him, towing him out of the room. Feeling slightly put out Atlanta had dragged Remus off, Sirius took one of the globes from James and studied it. He felt like he ought to have known about these things before tonight.

"I've seen those before," Peter whispered, staring at the globe in Sirius's hand. "They were invented in the forties during the war the Muggles had. They were used to scare Muggles out of bombed buildings."

"Interesting. Why are they in here?"

"Why is any of this stuff in here? Atlanta called it a prank room, but it seems to be a room filled with items that have either been banned or charmed in an illegal manner," James said.

"The dishes aren't charmed. You have to perform the spell," Sirius pointed out. "If it was illegal, why not throw the stuff out?"

"Some of it is Muggle stuff," James offered. "Like this thing."

He picked up the whoopee cushion, flapping it around. "Seriously, what does it do? It's a flabby piece of rubber."

Sirius and Peter exchanged looks and shrugged. James threw the thing on the ground. He pulled out the map and suggested they head back to the tower. While Peter and James plotted the best way to get back, Sirius picked up the whoopee cushion. He flipped it between his hands for a moment before realizing it had faint writing on it. In better light, he might be able to read it. He tucked it into his pocket, slipping the ghost globe in as well.

* * *

Giddy.

That was how Sirius felt when he finished with classes on Halloween. The Marauders had pulled epic Halloween pranks the past five years, but this year— this year was more epic than any of the past pranks.

They'd spent almost all night setting it up, working with the House Elves to switch out the entire dining set for the one they'd found in the Prank Room. (They had found out the two spells ONLY worked on the dishes found the Chamber of Mischief. Nothing else.) Remus had devised a way to set off the ghost globes so none of them would have to activate them. Sirius did not really understand what he'd done, but it involved one of the enchanted spoons. Sirius had sung the song "Monster Mash" a billion times it seemed to the dishes, silverware and goblets under the spell till Atlanta and Remus were happy.

James sat down next to Sirius. They exchanged grins as the room began to fill with people.

"Where's Moony?" Sirius asked, looking around. "He has to be here to cast the spell to get the dancing going."

"He's coming, don't worry," James said out of the corner of his mouth.

Sirius shifted a bit on the bench. The Halloween Feast was not like normal dinner, in that everyone had to be seated before it began. Sirius watched as students streamed in, keeping his eyes out for Moony and Atlanta.

Atlanta showed up before Remus. She walked in with his little brother, their arms hooked and heads tilted together. She laughed at something Regulus said. They sat down so they were facing the Gryffindor table, as they always did. Atlanta unhooked her arm from Regulus, patting him on the shoulder. Regulus gave her a strange look, but scooted closer to her till they were pressed together on the bench. He spoke into her ear, which caused Atlanta to turn pink.

"That was close," Remus breathed, sitting down across from Sirius. He was a little pink and out of breath.

"What took you so long?" Sirius asked.

"I had to go to the tower and dump my stuff," Remus replied. "Okay, Addy here?"

"Huh?"

"Atlanta Dorothy," Remus said. "Addy."

Sirius frowned, wondering why Remus was calling her that, but nodded. He liked Addy better than Lanta.

Dumbledore stood up and welcomed them all to the Halloween feast. He was about to tell them to enjoy when Sirius saw Atlanta tap her hair and turned it blue. Sirius turned to Remus, who wasn't even looking at Atlanta for the signal. Sirius stomped on Remus's foot, who fell forward a bit.

Before Dumbledore could finish his speech and signal for the House Elves to send the food down, all the plates on the table began to float in the air. The silverware stood up as well, though it wasn't floating. Dumbledore fell silent, seemingly astounded. Slughorn looked as if he'd seen a ghost. The rest of the professors all stared at the Gryffindor table. Sirius tried to look surprised.

Remus flicked his wand under the table. Sirius felt a jet of magic shoot out and a spoon at the end of the table went flying. Atlanta must have done the spell to start the music, as the music started playing as more spoons flew off the table and hit the globes that had been placed around the room.

The monsters the boys had come up with were bizarre. Sirius's was a giant furry dog that was green and covered in slime. Peter had come up with a huge, green human thing with a square head and bolts in the neck. James' was red with wild fire hair and claws for feet. Remus' monster was a boring mummy.

"_I vas vorking in the lab, late one night," _the green monster began in the weird German accent Sirius had chosen to use_. "Vhen my eyes beheld an eerie sight, vor my monster vrom his slab, began to rise!_"

The plates all rose higher in the air, spinning around. Students gasped. A few first years screamed. Sirius was sure McGonagall sighed deeply and buried her face in her hands for a second, then reverted to normal.

"_And suddenly to my surprise, he did the mash, he did thee monster mash!_"

The plates spun, the silverware all began to tap dance with the goblets. The ghost monsters all stuck their arms forward and stomped around.

"_Thee monster mash, it vas a graveyard smash, he did thee mash, it caught on in a vlash, he did thee mash, he did thee monster mash!_"

The plates, silverware, and goblets all joined in for the chorus. Sirius grinned, staring at his own plate spun in circles above his head and his silverware danced with one another while his own goblet bounced around on the table.

"_Vrom my laboratory in thee castle east, to the master bedroom vhere thee vampires feast!_"

There was a tiny explosion and a ghost like vampire rose out of the center of the Great Hall. Several more students screamed. The Hufflepuffs near the ghost vampire inched away, while the Ravenclaws looked on in confusion.

"_Thee ghouls all came vrom their humble abodes to get a hit vrom my electrodes!_" sung Peter's ghost, who had somehow gotten some sort of object that let bright, white light out between the two objects he held.

"_They did thee mash, they did thee monster mash," _the entire dining room sung out around them. _"They did thee monster mash, it vas a graveyard smash! They did thee mash, it caught on in a vlash. They did thee mash, thee monster mash. They did the mash!_"

Sirius peeked around the room. Most of the students looked highly amused rather than freaked out as they had when it'd begun.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the dishes fell back to the table, the silverware went still and the goblets all fell over. The ghost monsters were still looming, but they'd stopped singing and were simply hanging in the air, having used up all their directions.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore praised, clapping his hands and laughing.

Slowly the rest of the students began laughing again and clapped as well. Sirius exchanged grins with James, then turned to Remus, who looked worn out and nervous for some reason. Peter looked hungry.

"Well, if that's all the excitement for tonight, let us begin the feast!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands again. The dancing dishes all vanished, replaced with the usual feast dishes.

Food appeared.

"That was you guys, right?"

"Way to go! That was brilliant!"

"How did you get the dishes to dance and sing like that?"

"Where did you get those ghosts from?"

The questions shot out from all directions. The Marauders did as they usually did and played dumb. Sirius looked across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table. Most of the snakes all looked weary of eating off dishes that looked like the dancing dishes. Quite a few looked like they expected the dishes to do something else other than dance. Atlanta and Regulus were chatting, Regulus rolling his eyes in a dramatic fashion. He looked up suddenly and caught his brother's eye. Sirius stilled, waiting for his brother to react first. Regulus quirked on eyebrow at Sirius then extended his head a bit.

Sirius smiled like an idiot.

Sirius was still flying high about the prank by the time the feast was over. He got up and followed the rest of the Gryffindors to the tower, but was stopped short by McGonagall.

"So, charmed dishes?"

"Excuse me?" Sirius asked, putting on his charming, confused, pureblood mask.

She raised one eyebrow. "Detention. Tomorrow. Seven. You'll join the House Elves in the kitchens. Bring along all your friends. And Miss Black. I'd suggest you bring your brother as well, except he seemed too surprised to be faking it."

Sirius didn't feel the prank was worthy of a detention. It hadn't harmed anyone at all. He hoped Atlanta wasn't too mad about getting detention. McGonagall didn't miss anything.


	9. A Riddle Wrapped in a Question

_A/N: Just a wee FYI before you read this story, edited and reloaded on 21 June 2013._

_1) Tom Riddle and several of the Black (Walburga, Orion, Alphard, and Cynus) were all at Hogwarts at the same time, having been born in the mid to late 1920s. _

_2) Dumbledore mentions (at some point) no one links Tom Riddle with Voldemort, especially in the Mararuder's era. The last anyone has heard of Tom Riddle was in the 1950s when he mysterious vanished without a trace after the death of Ms Smith. Atlanta was never privy to any of that information in the previous timeline, so she's got NO idea who Tom Riddle becomes at the end of the day. _

_3) The Tom in this story somewhere between fourteen and fifteen and in his fourth year at Hogwarts. He thinks he might be fifteen, but later we'll see he's not so sure. Due to being in fourth year, he hasn't opened the Chamber of Secrets yet, but he does know about his connection to Slytherin and the Gaunts. He has his group of friends (he calls them his Knights) about him and has toyed with the name change, but this version hasn't decided. _

_4) No one knows what this version of Tom you're going to meet is and they never really will figure it out. Ah, the wonders of magic._

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. **

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**_A Riddle Wrapped in a Question_**

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"Whoa."

Tom Riddle slowly became aware of the fact he was no longer at Hogwarts. He could not remember exactly what he'd been doing, but he knew he'd been at Hogwarts. Opening his eyes slowly he took in his blurry surroundings. He made out two people, roughly the same height. He blinked again and saw magic shimmering strongly around the shorter, female shaped one.

The magic felt familiar, yet he had no idea why.

"What did you do?" hissed a male voice.

"I seemed to have spilled some potions on that creepy, stalker like sketchbook your mother kept," the first voice— an American female— said. "Though, dude, in person he's even hotter."

"He doesn't look hot," the boy offered. "He looks like a ghost. Only not as pearly."

The girl gave an exasperated sigh.

"True. He's not very solid. But, he is in living color," the female said and then chuckled. "That was a great show. Jim Carrey was brill."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind."

Tom blinked a few more times. Slowly, the two figures in front of him came into sharp focus. The female and male were almost the same height, the male only a couple inches taller than the female. The pair made a strange couple, between the female's clothes and heavy glamours. The female was dressed in an odd assortment of Muggle clothes (she had a strange sheer shirt on and shorts, tights and knee high boots), while the male was clearly of pureblood wizarding stock. Tom took a few steps backwards only to fall through the shelves behind him.

"Dude," the female breathed. "So cool. I wonder what those were?"

"Atlanta!" the male scolded as the female moved forward.

Tom felt around for his wand, but did not find it anywhere. He felt naked without it, vulnerable. He always had his wand on him since he'd bought it at age eleven.

Now, he had no wand and he was standing in shelves. That he was sure of. He was unsure what time of day it currently was. Or for that matter what month, day, or year. Judging by the female's choice in clothing, Tom would wager he was in future. One where females wore less clothing.

"Where am I?" he demanded, as the female came forward a bit, studying him with a look of fascination on her face.

"Oh, he even sounds pretty," the female all but squealed. "It's totally not fair! Why does one guy get all that?"

She waved her had at Tom, mock outrage on her heavily glamoured features. Tom frowned, noticing the features were made with pure white magic, while she seemed to ooze various shades of grey magic. It was the grey magic that called to him. He could feel the power.

The male behind her snorted. "You saying I'm ugly?"

"Oh, Reggie daaaaarling," the girl dragged out, "You're a Black, of course you're not ugly. You're just not…pretty."

"And Sirius?"

"Oh, Siri wishes he looked like this guy here. Tragically, you Blacks just aren't pretty. Good looking, handsome…sure. Elegant looking indeed. But him…he's total a teenage heartthrob material."

Tom studied the pair carefully from his spot in the shelves. He focused on the fact the female had said the boy (he was clearly younger than Tom) belonged to the Blacks. The boy did look a bit like Alphard. He had the classic Black aristocratic features, the grey-blue eyes and raven hair. It was straight, though, not the usual wavy locks most male Blacks had. The boy did not possess that annoying carefree ease Alphard had either. The boy reminded Tom strongly of Alphard's cousin, Orion.

The female, under all her heavy glamours, was also very clearly a Black. She had the Black's wavy black locks, cheek bones and manner of carrying herself. Her eyes, though, were a shimmering amber, which Tom had never seen on a Black. Shifting his eyes, he managed looked at the girl with the glamours on.

That was new. So was seeing magic, now that he thought about it.

Shockingly, she looked more like a Black with the glamours. Her hair was now straight like the boy's, but no longer black. It was a rich shade of mahogany. Her nose took on a more Black-like appearance. The eye color switched out to a green-grey color. Not exactly typical Black, but closer.

The pair could have been twins. It was disturbing, since the boy was clearly looking at the girl in a manner told Tom they were not twins. Or related closely, but then again, they were Blacks. They tended to marry their cousins.

Obviously, Tom was at one of the many Black homes. In the musty, dusty attic. Looking around while the pair continued to banter with one another, he took in all the various family heirlooms that resided in the attic. It was a mash up of objects, but each object oozed Dark magic. That alone put Tom more at ease. He could see the magic dancing when he shifted his eyes to see magic.

It was fascinating. He needed to understand.

"I wonder what we did exactly?" the girl asked, kneeling down over the notebook on the ground. It was soaked in purple liquid. She sniffed it a few times. "That's so…_vierd_."

"Is that a word?" Tom asked hauntingly, taking a few steps froward to look at the purple soaked notebook. He could see his own face drawn in a careful hand, blurred now thanks to whatever had soaked the notebook. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He could feel a connection to the notebook. When he looked closer, he could see magic slowly swirling out of the notebook, connecting to him.

He was connected to the notebook? The notebook had his magic?

"'Weird,' with an accent, dude," the girl offered, slowly standing up to face him. "I guess introductions are in order. We know who you are. Walburga was nice enough to label every single drawing she made of you. Though, she didn't do you justice at all."

Walburga Black. Urg.

He glanced back at the boy, realizing where his harsher features had come from. And, if memory served him correctly, Orion was betrothed to Walburga— thus why the boy also reminded him of Orion.

"I'm Atlanta Black, or just Lanta."

"Not a very Black name," Tom instantly pointed out. "It's not a star."

"True. But I am American and while the American branch kept with that standard, for some unknown reason, my mom picked out Atlanta. And didn't even bother to spell it not like the city."

"Atlanta, a variation of Atalanta, Greek." Tom paused for a moment, picking his brian. "It means 'secure, immovable.'"

The boy snorted.

"Yup. That's me. I'm not moving until you make me," she joked. "I think my mom liked the Greek myth about Atalanta. Though, I dislike it. I'm all for woman power."

Tom regarded the female in front of him for a moment before turning his attention to the Black boy.

"Regulus Black," the boy offered. "A proper Black name."

Black shot a look at Atlanta, who heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes deeply.

Turning her attention back to Tom, she said, "I'd shake your hand, but you're not very solid… seeing you're still standing in the shelf. Which, is cool."

Tom stepped out of the shelves, coming to rest next to the girl. He was only a couple inches taller than her. She was very tall for a girl. He studied her carefully. She radiated magic. Tom felt himself smirking at the feeling of the power radiating off her.

She was interesting.

Her magic seemed to be reaching out for him, twisting around the black tendrils that were dancing over his skin. He glanced at the notebook again and happily noted none of his black magic was coming out of the book any longer. He had it all within him.

Whatever he might currently be…

This whole situation was interesting. Though, seeing magic might get annoying once he got back to Hogwarts. The whole castle was seeped in magic, old, powerful magic.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance," Tom said smoothly, charm oozing from every pore.

The girl quirked an eyebrow at him. "Of course. I'm amazing."

She knelt down again, studying the purple soaked notebook. She sniffed it, though she was no where near enough to smell anything. She made a face.

"I think those went bad like five lifetimes ago," she offered. She pulled out her wand and began poking the notebook, muttering under her breath.

Tom had to catch his breath.

Grey. Millions and millions of shades of grey swirled around the girl thickly as she performed magic. Tom felt his own magic reacting with hers, swirling darkly around him, reaching out to join hers. He noticed she froze for a moment. She glanced up, knitting her eyebrows together as her eyes came to rest on Tom. She poked the notebook again, causing Tom's magic to swell yet again. Quirking an eyebrow, Tom noticed she could see the magic in the air. He took a quick glance at the boy. From his expression, he could feel the magic, but he wasn't seeing it in the sense Atlanta and Tom were.

The girl prodded the notebook hard, causing Tom's magic to jump off him and towards her.

"Stop that," he snapped.

He was still connected to the damn notebook clearly.

"You don't have a wand, yet you've got your magic…well, kinda," Atlanta offered, sitting back on her haunches. She studied him carefully. "You're Dark."

Tom squared his shoulders and glared at her. He was not willing to share anything with these strangers, so he did the next best thing: joked. Most people thought Tom had no sense of humor and he was all business and politeness.

No one usually realized he was joking when he did.

"I'm not anything. See."

He retreated back into the shelf.

"Hardy, har, har, Riddle," Atlanta dryly drawled.

"Addy?"

Atlanta startled, clearly have forgotten there was another person in the room with them.

"Huh?"

"Excuse me," Tom corrected without thinking.

"What?" Atlanta asked, looking at him while Black stifled a snort.

"The proper way to express your confusion is 'excuse me' not something that clearly expresses you're brian dead."

Atlanta surveyed him cooly. "Interesting. I know you're not a pureblood, yet you aim to be one." Tom frowned. "I guess that is what happens when you get put into Slytherin."

The boy cleared his throat.

"I know, I know. But I'm the crass American, Reggie!"

"You know better!"

"Eck," the girl snorted. "So, excuse me?"

She turned and gave Black a sickly sweet smile.

"I was going to ask you what exactly do you think happened. He has magic, can he use it without a wand? And, he's like a ghost, but ghosts have no magic. Nor do they spring out of sketchbooks my mother kept."

"Brilliant deduction," Tom drawled.

"It is," Black snapped. "I think whatever the purple gunk was, while expired, reacted with the magic my mother used when she drew these pictures of Riddle." The boy pinned Tom with a look. "Also, my mother, being the sick harpy she is, managed to get traces of his magic and essence. Hair, blood, and…skin."

Tome felt sick. How had Walburga Black gotten any of that off him? And how DARE she do that.

"I'm not even going to ask how she managed to do this." Atlanta shuddered.

"Excuse me?" Tom asked, feeling outraged. His magic swirled around him, crackling darkly. The boy jumped backwards, while Atlanta simply rolled her eyes.

"Riddle, dude, get a grip. You're thirty-seven years out of your time here. Walburga is grown, married and has two kids. I think you're safe. She didn't marry you. So, I guess she got over you."

"She can't have married me," Tom said at the same time Black said, "She was betrothed to my father since she was five."

"Don't mean she got no feelings," Atlanta offered in a heavy American Deep South accent, causing Tom to cringe at her bad grammar. She laughed loudly. "Okay, so Walburga Black is creepy as hell. So is Great Aunt Cassiopeia, who clearly made whatever spilled on the sketch book. Now, what do we do with this pretty boy?"

"Pretty?" Tom sneered.

"Oh, you're very pretty— dare I say, boarding on beautiful, darling," Atlanta drawled, laying on a rather thick, more posh accent. "Dude! I've totally got a prank for Sirius!"

"NO!" Black shouted. "He's already pretty!"

"Sirius isn't pretty. He just thinks he is."

"Atlanta."

"Regulus."

"Tom," Tom offered. "Excuse me, what are you going to do about me?"

The pair turned to him.

"I'm sentient," Tom pointed out. "It'd be murder if you were to get rid of me."

"I have no idea. I don't fancy you want to live in the Black's attic and pretend to be a ghost?"

Tom folded his arms. "No. Next brilliant suggestion."

Atlanta took a few steps closer to him and stared at him while he stood in the shelf. "No clue, pretty boy. We could try to find you. Put you back into your older self. I think…I'm not sure, but…if you're sentient, that means…you've got a soul. But, you're not sucking us dry. You were born out of a potion."

"That book wasn't a horcrux," Black stated. "It wasn't…it did not have enough Dark magic to be one of those things."

"So, you have no soul!" Atlanta cried, throwing out her arms. "And you're not dead! You're…something new."

Tom felt a wave of pleasure at this. He liked being different, something unique. He glanced over at Atlanta, who was wearing a similar expression to his own— yet there was something else in her expression that Tom could not place. Her face quickly morphed into one of deep thinking. She brought her hand up and rested her chin in the crook between her thumb and index finger.

"You're made up of DNA and magic. I wonder if you retained your own personality, as that stems from souls usually," Atlanta mused, crossing her arms as she studied him.

"Hence why horcruxes can think for themselves," Black said quietly, looking almost as if he wished he did not know this information.

"I am still myself," Tom offered. "What is a horcrux?"

Black shifted, turning his eyes to the floor.

"Hmmm," Atlanta hummed, clearly not having heard Tom's question. Her mouth quirked in one corner and she tilted her head to the side.

"Excuse me, I asked what a horcrux is," Tom reminded the room.

"It's a…horrible way to make yourself almost immortal. It tethers your soul to this plane of existence," Black said, looking like he'd rather throw up than explain. "You tear your soul apart to make one through murder of an innocent."

"Seriously?" Atlanta asked, turning around to look at Black.

Tom shifted within the shelves. He didn't care how one made one, once he was human, he was going to research these horcruxes. The room fell silent as Atlanta turned to look at Tom again, that deep thinking expression on her face once again.

"Mother took his essence," Black said, lighting up. "I've read about spells that take a bit of essence of someone's soul. It's like a copy. What did you call it?"

"Photocopy. Xerox," Atlanta supplied, using foreign sounding words again. "So, technically, your mother stole some of Tom Riddle's essence, infused it in the notebook and spent her nights kissing his pictures or something?"

"Atlanta Dorothy Black that was crass. Please. Mental images," Black said, shuddering alone with Tom.

_Dorothy_? Tom thought, staring at the girl in confusion. What a Muggle sounding middle name. Tom filed away the information for later.

"Fine, but his actual self is missing some of his essence, which is like the surface of his soul. Can you grow a soul from essence?" Atlanta mused.

"I don't know…aren't souls…well, unique?"

"So, we ought to give it back to the older Tom Riddle," Atlanta suggested, turning away from Tom to face Black. "We find Tom Riddle, if he's still alive and meld the two together?"

"No thanks," Tom said instantly. "I like being my own person. And if I can grow my own soul, then I won't be like the older Tom Riddle."

Who hopefully wasn't going by his Muggle name any longer…

Atlanta quirked an eyebrow, turning back to face Tom. She gave him a rather crooked smile, watching him carefully. He felt her eyes on him and felt his magic reacting again. She twirled her wand in her left hand in a familiar manner, watching as her magic and his magic reacted to one another as she let out bits of magic from the tip of her wand. She met his eye, and Tom knew they'd drawn the same conclusion: he was tied to her.

Even if he grew a soul (which he doubted would happen), he was still tied into her magic.

He could stay with her, or go back to his own body— wherever he currently was located.

He didn't want to meld with himself, though. He was different than his older self. He was unique.

"I guess I could keep you."

"Atlanta!" Black shouted. "How do you plan on keeping him? He's not a pet!"

"He's correct. I'm not anyone's pet, possession or anything, thank you very much."

Tom shifted, trying to pull his magic back away from her. Atlanta's hand darted out and managed to grip his arm. "Look. I can touch you."

Tom felt rather disturbed by this. Mostly because he felt his magic react to her touch and trickle over to her more than it'd had doing before. He looked up at her with wide eyes, finding the strange greenish-amber eyes glowing in reaction. Then, when he was about to tear his arm from her grip, he felt her magic mix with his and they crackled together in a brilliant show of grey and black magic. It swirled around them, dancing over their skin, causing her glamours to glow bright white.

It was beautiful. And strong. Tom felt drunk on the power he was feeling from the mixture of their magics so close together.

He found he didn't want to leave. He wanted that power, even if it meant begin dependent on someone else.

"You didn't do those," Tom realized, his voice a little too breathy for his own taste. He almost wanted to reach up and touch the skin under the glamours, just to see what might happen.

"No. I didn't," she replied, looking at him with a guarded expression. "How come I don't know who you are? You're really freaking powerful, even in this shadow form. You are bursting with Dark magic, yet you don't seem evil. And you can't be older than sixteen."

"I'm fifteen. How old are you?"

The girl laughed a mirthless laugh and rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "Oi vey, to know how old I am."

"Addy?"

Tom had forgotten the other boy was in the room. Again. And clearly from the startled expression on Atlanta's face, she had as well. Again.

"Yes, Reggie?"

"How old _are_ you?"

Her expression changed and she dropped Tom's arm. Tom felt like he was missing a limb suddenly and frowned deeply. She turned towards the boy, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

"Well, I was seventeen when I left," she replied. "And that was, uh, in May. I was born in November. So, I'd been seventeen for almost six months. When I got here it was September. So…er…in March I'll be eighteen."

Tom's ears perked up. That made it sound like— she was a time traveler.

"And you're in sixth year?"

"Well, I told Dumbly to put me in six— we've been over that, Reggie," Atlanta reminded the boy.

"I know. I still don't understand. You're confusing, Addy," the boy muttered, looking rather bemused.

"Please explain what you're talking about," Tom demanded.

"Oh, I'm from either the future or an alternative universe. And don't tell me your theories on time travel. I've got my own I'm working from," she said, dismissal clear in her tone. "Anyways, because of the crap sixth year I had back home, when I got here I suggested Dumbledore put me in sixth year. I kind of was totally distracted by this war taking place here and didn't give it my all. So, in I'm still seventeen at the moment. There! I answered the question!"

There was a loud crack, the noise filling the confines of the attic. The ugliest House Elf in the world appeared. Black looked mildly interested, while Atlanta frowned deeply at the ugly Elf.

"Mistress is looking for you, Master Regulus," the Elf said in a croaky voice, eyeing the girl with clear distaste. She glowered right back at the House Elf. She changed how she was standing, almost challenging the Elf to say something to her.

"I ought to go see what she wants," Regulus muttered. "Will you be all right?"

"Nasty, nasty girl," the Elf muttered under his breath. "Dirtying Mistress' house with her nasty Muggle clothing."

"Kreacher!"

The Elf startled. "Yes, Master Regulus?"

"You were speaking out loud again. Do not speak in that manner about Atlanta."

"Yes, Master Regulus," the Elf replied, bowing low. Black muttered under his breath about his mother making the Elf crazy. He turned back to Atlanta, "Will you be all right up here?"

"Sure. I'll figure out what to do with our new friend."

The elf looked rather alarmed to see Tom, who was standing the shelves again.

"All right."

Black eyed Tom for a moment in distrust before following the House Elf out of the room. Atlanta turned to him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Okay, Tommy boy, we're going to have to figure out what to do with you," she announced.

"Don't call me that," Tom snapped.

"Fine. Riddle me this, riddle me that," she muttered, pulling her wand out again. Suddenly she laughed. "Riddler! I loved that character. Best villain. He likes riddles, puzzles and word games. Plus, he's insane. But, not the Jim Carrey one. There was something off about him in that role. Though, he does play insane well. And stupid."

"What are you talking about?"

"_Batman_. I don't remember when _Batman_ came out. He's a comic book superhero," she explained. "The Riddler was one of the bad guys."

"Muggle thing?" Tom questioned, vaguely remembering comic books.

"Yes. It was a really big deal in the sixties. There was this TV show. It was in reruns when I was a kid. I used to catch it when my mom would dump me at Mr. Remus' house, as he had a TV. I love TV. I don't know why the wizarding world won't adopt TV. They finally adopted a radio of all things."

She shook her head, pulling something off her wrist. She gathered her hair up behind her head and fastened it. She put her hands on her hips.

"All right, Riddler."

"I'm not sure how I feel you nicknaming me after a villain," Tom said, though he was the first to admit, if there were a story written, he'd be the villain.

"You are alive with Dark Magic," Atlanta pointed out. "You're the bad guy. I'd be the ambiguous character that no one knows which way she is going. But, to matters at hand other than what we are to call one another. I need a way to transport you without people seeing."

"You are not transporting me!"

"Oh, cool your jets, Riddler. If Walburga finds out what we did on accident, or that there's a ghost like being here, she'll get rid of you faster than you can say 'wait, wait…don't kill me.' She's seriously a piece of work. Be happy she was forced to married Orion," Atlanta offered. "Tragically, with all my vast knowledge, I have no idea how to transport you— but, I can touch you."

She poked him in the chest with her finger. Tom took a step back, coming out behind the shelf. He walked around the shelf, coming to stand in front of her. Using his own magic, he caused a swell, shoving it over to Atlanta, allowing it to swirl around her. He felt himself getting fainter, he snapped his magic back to himself.

"Interesting. You seem to be mostly magic. That means…"

"It's the most important thing to me," Tom supplied.

"True." Atlanta bit her bottom lip, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts. "Do that again. I'm going to try to channel you somewhere you can hang out."

"Hang out?"

"Future expression for…well, sitting still and…er…well, that's it. Hmmm," she hummed, glancing at her bare forearm. "That's kind of…well, a little too Death Eatery for me, so we'll use the right arm."

"I'm going to live on your arm? No."

"Aw, Riddler, come on. I'll let you out. You're not my pet, object, or possession. But you're, well, tied to me. Can't you feel that?"

"Yes."

"And if any of the Black besides Reggie see you— you're toast. The nice crispy kind Peter just adores. The Blacks hate ghosts and tragically there's no way they will wait for the Ghost Busters. They'll just bust you themselves."

"Ghost Busters?"

"Yet another Muggle thing. There were these three guys in New York City who went around trapping ghosts and freeing the city from hauntings," Atlanta said, waving her hand at him. "I could go for some marshmallows…"

Tom did not grasp what she was trying to tell him. It was frustrating to say the least.

"I want to channel your magic into my arm and put you there for safe keeping. I don't have a home, but once I get back to Hogwarts, you can have free-reign of my room. I've got my own room because I'm special. Or difficult. Anyways, I've read about this. Well, not this. You and me, but channeling magic from someone else into a mark. I think Moldy Pants uses this method to keep track of the Eaters of Death. Gross. I can't believe I'm going to do this, but you're pretty."

"Moldy Pants?"

"Trust me, I bet his pants are moldy. And by pants, I mean his trousers. Not his underwear," she quickly added. "We'll call him Moly Trousers." She pulled her wand out and took a deep breath. "I don't need an incantation because I'm just putting you there for safe keeping. I don't need to sear you to my skin, as I'd like to let you out."

Tom shifted a bit, studying her carefully. He did not want to depend on anyone, let alone this strange girl, but he could feel the tug to be near her, the tie to her. He knew he couldn't keep his form if he trailed too far from her. He glowered. This was less than ideal. He'd have to think of a way out of the predicament, but she was rather fascinating.

And a time traveler.

"Okay. First try. Uh, try pushing your magic to me," she offered. She gulped.

Tom let his magic go, sending it out to her. He could feel her concentrate on capturing his magic with her wand. She began to sweat a bit as she took his magic and forced to into her arm. He felt himself fade from his current form and sink into her skin.

He could see. He was sure he was looking through her eyes. The room came into sharper focus. He could see so much all of a sudden. He felt himself look down at a pale forearm.

"Interesting. Why a snake?"

"I like snakes," Tom replied. "I am a Slytherin."

The snake on her arm was silver and green, of course. It twisted it's way around her arm like a bracelet, snaking its way up to her elbow. As he looked at it through her eyes, he noticed it glittering. Atlanta turned her arm, studying the whole thing. He could feel her unease grow a bit.

"Whoa. That is freaky. God, if my father was here, he'd give me a talking to. Proper girls don't have tattoos. Especially ones oozing with Dark magic," the girl muttered.

She turned her arm a few more times, muttering at least it didn't look like a Dark Mark. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what a Dark Mark was. It intrigued him, though. If he ever got out of his predicament, he'd look into it for his Knights.

"Honestly. What were you thinking Atlanta! You've just pushed some strange teenager's Dark magic into your system and now you feel him in your head. Brilliant! You're an idiot, Atlanta Siria Black."

She said this all in a rather stuffy sounding British accent.

Tom snorted. Wait, didn't she say her middle name was Dorothy earlier?

"Can you make me do anything?"

Tom tried for a few moments. He could push his magic around her core, mix it with hers, but he had no control. He let out a noise of anger.

"I see." Atlanta was quiet for a moment. "Give me a second."

He felt something shift and she raised her wand.

"Cast a spell. Nothing too harmful. I can feel what you're thinking."

Sighing, Tom cast a simple _Lumos_ charm.

"Wicked," Atlanta breathed. "I so did not do that. Well, just to warn ya, everyone thinks I'm crazy already, so the fact now I've got a you in my head won't be that far of a stretch for people to believe. I know you despise this arrangement, but we'll figure something out. I still think we ought to give you to yourself. If we can find you. You're are seriously brilliant. I can feel it. Though, you don't seem to have any morals…dude!"

"Excuse me?" Tom asked.

It was a strange sensation, to actually speak, hear himself speak, but know no one except Atlanta could hear him.

"You're like Moriarty or something," Atlanta offered.

It was the first odd reference she'd made Tom actually got. Despite his dislike of Muggles, they were better at writing fiction than wizards. Sherlock Holmes happened to be one of his favorites, as Holmes and his nemesis Moriarty were brilliant and dangerously clever.

"I'm going to go downstairs now. I bet the Blacks are wondering where their rude house guest went. Just to warn ya, they hate me because I'm American. Not because they know what I am."

"What are you?"

"Oh, you can't hear my thoughts? I can't hear yours, I just feel your emotions. Or sense you. I guess I only hear you when you actually speak."

"Same here. You're…confusing. You've got a lot of emotions."

Atlanta snorted rather unattractively.

"You're just not good at reading emotions because you don't seem to have any," Atlanta said happily. "All right. I'm going to stop talking to myself now and go downstairs."

Tom felt her walk across the room, which was filled with magic. It was coming off of almost every, single item in house as she walked through it. It was bizarre to move, seeing out of someone else's eyes. The girl started down the stairs, pausing to store the soaked sketchbook in her trunk. She was about to leave the room when she made a noise of annoyance. Tom wasn't sure what she what she was annoyed about till stood in front of a mirror. She was wearing a short coat like thing that stopped at her hips and had sleeves that ended at her elbows. She waved her wand and the item lengthened.

"Urg. This is so much worst. I hate robes," she grumbled. Tom could feel her disgust. It ran about as deep as his for all things Muggle.

Traveling through the house, Tom surmised it was the holidays, due to the fact the dark house was decorated for the Yule. Upon entering the drawing room, Tom was positive he was correct. A few of the older people he vaguely recognized sat in the room. There was a beautiful dark haired girl, draped on a couch, eyeing the girl he was in with repugnance. The other girl, a blonde, ignored Atlanta's entrance all together, her nose seemingly stuck up in the air. Atlanta sat down on the couch next to Regulus, who appeared relieved to see her.

The next two hours passed very slowly. The girl had been right: she was unwelcome in the Black house. Tom quickly became aware that Walburga Black was ten times more demented than she'd been at school, and Orion Black was quiet and silent these days. When no one was paying attention to him, he cast dark looks at the dark haired girl draped on the couch in the corner.

Alphard was absent, which was tragic. While Tom wasn't exactly fond of the strange man, he was amusing. This dreary get together was in need of someone like Alphard.

The everyone was terrible. Even by Black standards. The conversation lingered on about Americans and their lack of pureblood pride. The dark haired girl was the worst out of all the people in the room. Atlanta hated the dark hair girl with a vindictive passion. While Tom was no stranger to feeling hate, the emotion behind this hatred made it stronger than anything Tom had ever felt.

It made him upset. He did not want Atlanta feeling this way.

It was an odd sensation. He'd never been upset because someone else was upset. Tom was sure he was getting angry because Atlanta was being treated like scum wasn't helping her ire either. He could not understand how the morons in the room failed to realize the girl in their mists was more powerful than any of them. No matter her blood status.

Tom knew blood status didn't equate power when it came down to it in the end. He was a half blood. Half his blood was Muggle, and yet he was the most powerful person (besides Dumbledore) at Hogwarts. The purebloods in his House had nothing on him. In fact some of them were less powerful than some of the Muggleborns. Purebloods, like the Blacks, were arrogant and believed keeping their blood pure would allow them to be all powerful.

It was a lie.

Tom had spent five years studying and knew if you kept your blood line to only the small portion of purebloods, eventually power would be lost. Look what happen to Slytherin's line. The Gaunts were almost squibs from what Tom had learned during his research. They'd lost all their gold and there had not been a Gaunt in attendance at Hogwarts for over eighty years.

Wizards were superior to Muggles. Tom didn't care where the magic came from, any drop of magical blood caused the person to be better than the average human being. Tom, though, was not stupid. He'd been around the "best" of the best of wizarding society and knew how to work within those confines. Not one of the powerful families in wizarding society shared his view point.

That was fine.

Their viewpoints had not changed in the thirty-seven years. In fact, it was worse. And there was some mad Dark Lord who was making the situation worse from what Tom surmised.

Tom Riddle spent the two hours blasted emotions. They made him feel stronger, made the ones he felt normally stronger. It was a peculiar feeling as most times he went out of his way to feel blank, to feel nothing other than power.

It never occurred to him emotions could make him more powerful. He thought emotions made him weak.

He was wrong. How…wrong. Tom was never wrong. It fascinated him to a degree he could admit he had been wrong. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

Emotions didn't kill him. If anything, they made him feel stronger.

By the end of the two hours, there was one emotion Tom was unable to understand. It wasn't hate, it wasn't pity and it wasn't anger. It was something he'd never felt before and was directed at Regulus. He had to know what this emotion was, as it fueled all her other emotions and made them stronger and wilder.


	10. Someday You'll See Things My Way

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_Someday You'll See Things My Way_**

* * *

She came out of nowhere. One minute, he was just about to hex a disarmed Snape a few more times— the next James was gone and Sirius' nose was gushing blood down the front of his robes.

There was also a very irate girl screaming at him.

"YOU FOUL, LOATHSOME, MISCREANT BASTARD!" she screamed as her right fist collided with his nose again, the force causing him to snap his head back.

"Yob jub punched me! Agaib!" he managed to yell, holding his nose. "Whab wab thab for?"

Atlanta Black was pissed. She was radiating with anger. Her usually sleek, perfectly coiffed mahogany hair seemed to be standing on end. Her magic flared around her, sending red sparks through her hair. Grey and black sparks danced all over her skin and her face was contorted in fury, making her look almost ugly.

"What the hell is your problem, Black?"

Taking a swipe under his nose, he suddenly felt outrage swell and swirl in his veins. "What is your problem, Black? You suddenly a defender of greasy scum?"

She snorted, narrowing her flashing eyes. "Oh? Is that what you think this is?"

"What else would it be?" he asked thickly. It was hard to talk properly when his nose felt like it had been jammed into his brain. He was amazed he was still upright and able to form complete sentences.

"Oh, I don't know. He is unarmed, jinxed to the ground and you and Potter loom over him for no reason. You're a bloody bully, Black. A rude, mean, nefarious bully."

Sirius attempted to open his mouth and tell her that someone like Snape didn't deserve anything other than foul treatment, but he forgot who he was dealing with.

He forgot her words in the Chamber of Mischief. While he hadn't used a thing from the room against Snape, he'd forgotten her aversion to picking on people. Sirius had a lapse in memory that he was standing before the girl who'd singly handedly doled out rather devious and creative punishments for those who taunted his little brother. She'd managed to get at least THREE of them expelled. And she'd managed to do this without informing anyone her true intentions: protecting Regulus.

Sirius was sure he was the only soul who knew what Atlanta had been up to. He was the only one who observed her eyeing the three ugly, brawny Slytherins for three days. During these three days, one broke out into hives that contained actual bees, one suddenly had super large teeth and the other was unable to actually do anything than walk in circles for three hours. Thinking it was Regulus who set them up after they'd attempted to beat the crap out of him, the three had rounded on Regulus only to be caught by none other than Dumbledore himself. They were expelled, as the moment Dumbledore rounded the corner, one of the boys shouted, "_Crucio_."

Further investigation showed, the other two had attempted cast the spell on Regulus. Regulus had dodged each time, as he was a Seeker.

Sirius, while outraged, wasn't surprised the wanna be Death Eaters would resort to an Unforgivable.

But, this was too much.

Atlanta's protecting bubble included Snape now? That Sirius just could not agree with. Regulus was at least a decent human underneath his Slytherin outer shell.

"You think just because YOU DON'T HAPPEN TO LIKE HIM it gives you the right to taunt him? To hex him whenever you please? To pick fights with him for no reason other than your BOREDOM? IT. DOES. NOT. BLACK."

"He's a DEATH EATER WANNA BE!"

Atlanta had the nerve to laugh at him. It was a dark sounding laugh, one that sent a cold shiver down his spin.

"Oh, is that so? The world isn't separated into Death Eaters and Phoenixes, Black. The world isn't black and white, it's shades of grey you git."

She took another few steps towards him, still radiating power and rage. The sparks were leaping through her hair, jumping over her robes. She flicked her wand behind her, then brought it up and shoved it into Sirius's chest. Sirius dared a glance over her shoulder to find she'd somehow managed to stun Snape without even looking at him.

"Did it ever happen to occur to you the reason he might go off and do something like, oh, I don't know, becoming a Death Eater would be due to the fact you treated him like dirt for six years? That you, Sirius Orion Black, drove him to the Dark Side. Granted, I am not about to give you so much credit, because you're simply a jerk, but think for a moment. Use that brain you supposedly have and think. Are you any better than those so called Slytherin idiots? You bully, you taunt, you pick on others. You and Potter pick on everyone you think is unworthy. And guess what? There might not be ANYTHING WRONG WITH THEM. YOU JUST PICK THEM OUT BECAUSE OF THEIR HOUSE. IT PROVES YOU'RE JUST AS BIGOTED AS THOSE YOU CLAIM TO WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH. YOU ACT JUST LIKE THEM, ONLY TOWARDS THEM. THAT WILL GET NOTHING DONE, BLACK. YOU ARE MAKING THE PROBLEM WORSE."

Suddenly, Atlanta took a few steps back from him, her lip curling in disgust. Never in his life had any one looked at him with that expression except his mother.

"You disgust me," Atlanta spat.

She glanced to the left. Sirius was too shocked at her outburst to do anything other than follow her line of sight. She was looking at James in the same manner she'd bestowed on Sirius.

"You too. I know you can hear me. Someday your son is going to figure out what a bully you were and feel embarrassed for saying you weren't an arrogant asshole."

In a whirl of robes she turned and stared at Snape, who was frozen on the ground.

"You're not any better," she informed him in a low voice. "I'd hoped more of you, but I guess…I was too late."

She whirled again and stormed down the hallway, students parting for her. She turned the corner as McGonagall appeared at the other end.

"What is going on here?" McGonagall demanded, her mouth set in a tight line.

Sirius didn't answer her. Mostly because at that moment, his little brother appeared from the direction Atlanta had vanished. And he looked pissed.

"What did you do now? What did you do?" Regulus yelled, grabbing the front of his brother's robes, jerking him forward.

"Mr. Black!" McGonagall chided.

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius shouted, trying to push Regulus away. Regulus, though, had managed to grow since Sirius had last seen him. He was no longer short and scrawny looking, but had shot up a few inches so he was almost as tall as Sirius. He wasn't as brawny, but he wasn't weak either. Evidently his summer alone in Gimmauld Place had done some good for the runt.

"Yes, you did!" Regulus shouted, roughly letting go of Sirius. Sirius stumbled backwards, landing with a thud on the ground. "She's right."

Regulus glanced around at the gathering around him. He looked from Snape, who had been unfrozen by McGonagall, to James who was rubbing his head.

"She's right."

Sirius figured his little brother was over his tirade, till he ripped the Slytherin badge off his robe and threw it at Sirius's head.

"You're a prejudice prat," Regulus said. "You were perfectly fine with me till I sorted into Slytherin. You don't understand what you've done! You _do_ think the world is black and white, Slytherin and Gryffindor! You all do!"

And with that last outburst, Regulus stormed off.

"MR. BLACK!" McGonagall shouted after his retreating form, but he turned the corner. McGonagall huffed, taking in the scene. "Clear out! Now. Potter, Black, Snape. Come to my office."

James and Snape got to their feet, scowling at one another. McGonagall glared at each in turn till her eyes settled on Sirius and his Gushing Nose of Doom.

He'd forgotten he had a broken nose.

"Black, go to the Hospital Wing. Then, meet me in my office for your punishment," she snapped, grabbing James and Snape.

Not needing to be told twice, Sirius hurried off in the opposite direction towards the Hospital Wing. He caught sight of Regulus hurrying up the stairs to the seventh floor. Wanting to give his little brother a piece of his mind, Sirius changed directions and hightailed it after Regulus. His nose could wait.

Being lithe didn't hinder Regulus, as he was rather quick. Since Sirius couldn't exactly breathe through his nose it was difficult for the usually athletic Sirius to keep up with his little brother. Regulus came to a stop in a spot that Sirius hadn't paid much heed to in the past. Regulus walked back and forth three times before a door materialized. Regulus ripped the door open and walked into the room. Darting forward, Sirius managed to get his hand on the door before it slammed shut. He quickly darted inside and hid behind a chair as the door slammed. Peaking out he noticed the room was filled with junk. The ceilings were high and room seemed to go on forever. Books, furniture, random doodads were all over the place, some in piles that looked like they'd fall over at any moment that reached the ceiling.

"Marco!" Regulus shouted, turning around in a circle.

"Polo," came the lacking response from deep within the maze of junk.

Regulus judge the direction and took off down an aisle. Trying to be quiet, Sirius followed.

"Marco!"

"Polo."

Regulus turned right.

"Marco."

"Polo."

Regulus paused and turned back the way he'd been walking then darted up yet another passageway.

"Marco."

"Polo."

Regulus turned left and came to a stop. "Hey, Marco."

"How you doing, Polo?"

Sirius crouched behind a broken cabinet and peered around it to find Atlanta sitting in a heap of purple robes, her hands over her face. Her knuckles were bloody and bruised.

Regulus sat down next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. His eyes worriedly wandered over Atlanta, landing on her hands. He frowned deeply.

"So?"

"That did not go right," Atlanta mumbled. She dropped her hands and let out a noise of frustration. "I never saw the memory, but it totally upset Harry. Remus told me about it. It bothered him. I mean, the instance he was worked up over happened fifth year after the OWLs, but it kind of broke Harry's delusion of how grand and great his father and Sirius happened to be."

She fell silent. Regulus chose not to say anything. Sirius, though, had a strange inkling he knew what she was talking about. Chills ran down his spine.

"It's worse seeing it in person," Atlanta muttered. "Oh, god. Has he tried to feed Snape to Remus yet?"

"Excuse me?" Regulus asked, thrown off. "I wasn't aware Lupin was a carnivore."

Atlanta slapped his arm lightly, wincing slightly. Regulus caught her hand and held it in his own, studying it with a frown. "He's not, you dolt. Has your brother tried to kill Snape yet with, well, uh…"

"I think I know, Addy," Regulus said quietly, pulling his wand out.

Sirius had only heard Remus and Regulus call her "Addy." He'd tried it once. If looks could kill, Sirius's nose wouldn't be broken as he would have jumped to the other side already.

Regulus waved his wand over her hand, murmuring. Atlanta let out a hiss, but studied her hand. Regulus dropped her hand and looked over at her. "Werewolf?"

Sirius was shocked Regulus said that statement so calmly and without a bit of hate or fear in his eyes.

"I knew you were clever," Atlanta muttered.

Regulus shrugged. "I noticed the signs. I pay attention. It's easy to figure out if you know what you're looking for."

Atlanta grimaced. "You're not going to…"

"Tell the world? No. Lupin's a good person. Even if he's friends with my brother."

"God, I suck at this." Atlanta let out a frustrated growl. "If I really had simply just gone back in time, I think I'd be thrown into Azkaban, as you're not supposed to mess with time per wizarding laws. Which, is stupid. You can't keep time the same—"

"Don't. It makes my head hurt when you go all Time Travel Theory on me," Regulus moaned, running his hands through is hair. He grabbed up her other hand and repeated the same action as before with his wand. "You're gonna need some bruise ointment. I don't have that on me."

"That's fine. But, back to time travel. Why does it exist if you can't change anything once you go backwards in time? And why with everything I'm doing do things keep, well, not changing? Why tell people not to change things, go so far as to make it a law, if things don't change?" Atlanta huffed.

"Addy," Regulus said in a warning tone, giving her a look. For a second Sirius thought Regulus had spotted him, but then he realized Regulus was gazing at Atlanta. He could only see Atlanta. "We both acted irrationally."

"I still don't know why you flipped out, Reggie," Atlanta said, shaking her head at him.

She ran her fingers through her hair a few times. It made a static sound and seemed to finally fall flat. Her eyes lingered on the hole where his patch once been sewn. She reached out and fingers the frayed edges.

"I mean, I know you hate your fellow Slytherins, but if you think about it, dude, you kind of really screwed yourself over."

Atlanta dropped her hand into her lap.

Regulus banged his head a few times on the object behind him. "I know, I know. Bloody hell, what was I thinking?"

"You weren't. You were channeling Sirius and not thinking," Atlanta pointed out. "I think it's a deeply ingrained Black trait, as I did the same thing."

Sirius noticed Regulus' wince.

"I've never seen you loose it, though. You're so controlled."

"I'm tired of him being such a bully," Regulus sighed. "It's not like him to pick on people. He wasn't like this till he met Potter."

"Arrogant toe rag," Atlanta muttered. "I always thought Snape was just being a jerk. A world class, makes you want to rip your toe nails out jerk…"

Regulus threw her a look. "If you really think this is a different reality and a totally different time-space than where you came from, then why do all these things keep happening and within the correct character?"

"I don't know. I don't understand. I mean, almost everything is the same. I don't have a real good grasp on this time period, as I wasn't exactly alive, but there is a key thing MIA from this reality. Also, I don't remember Tom."

Who the hell was Tom?

Regulus snorted. "That's because you never came over at Christmas and dumped spoiled potions on a notebook."

"Well, yeah, but who is he? A guy with that brilliant of a mind doesn't just vanish off the face of the earth. Plus, what about the other thing?"

"Sirius and Lupin are poofers and in love with one another? I'll believe that when Draco Malfoy finally shows up."

"He will. In 1980."

"I mean, when he shows up how you left him," Regulus corrected. "Sirius isn't a poofer. Have you met him?"

"Slimy git," Atlanta muttered, staring at her bruised hand. "Thinks he's so damn charming. And I have. And, well, he is. Trust me. It's Remus I'm not sure about. He was so easy to read before…I could always tell, see it in his eyes."

Regulus snorted. "Sure. The werewolf, the master secret keeper himself, easy to read."

"Okay. You have a point. It's just, well, the one I knew from my time period…I could tell he was in love. It was in his eyes."

"And Sirius?"

"Well, the thirteen years in Azkaban kind of killed his eye feelings."

"Eye feelings?" Regulus laughed, seemingly not bothered Sirius' counterpart had spent thirteen years in Azkaban.

Sirius felt something cold settle in his stomach. What did he do to land in Azkaban? Why did Atlanta seem to think he was currently in love with Remus? He loved Remus, but as his best mate, not his…whatever. Why was he given any merit to the bonkers things she was saying?

"Why are we talking about this again?"

"You brought it up."

Regulus made a noise of frustration and rammed a hand through his hair again. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Oh, I dunno. My goal is to keep you alive, you gorgeous boy. And I think you just signed your death warrant. You ripped off your badge and yelled at your supposed brave and just brother. And accused him of being prejudice towards everyone in your house and disowning you because you happen to be a Slytherin."

"He did," Regulus muttered.

The hurt in his voice was evident. Sirius cast his eyes away, not sure how to take this. He had always assumed Regulus had bought into all the hype and pureblood mantra his family had attempted to shove down Sirius's throat. Had he been wrong?

"I know, Reggie," Atlanta said softly. "But you ripped off your badge. Do you know how your fellow Slytherins are going to take that."

Regulus groaned. He grabbed at his hair.

"You know it's true. What I shouted at him, you know it's true. In both realities. Sirius was-slash-is bigoted when it comes to Death Eaters verse non-Death Eaters."

Atlanta nodded, looking sad. She grabbed his hands and removed them from his hair. She carded her hands through his hair gently, arranging it so it didn't look like Regulus was suffering from a mental breakdown.

"I was dead in your lifetime, so you never knew me. Only saw my name on that damn family tree," Regulus said, leaning into her touch. "And Sirius knew nothing about me, other than I was a Death Eater and I was dead. For all you know, I did this same thing before, only without you to protect me from all the bad monsters."

"Remus said you got scared and tried to back out" Atlanta offered quietly.

"Yeah, sounds like me," Regulus spat. Atlanta smacked him lightly on the arm with the hand not in his hair. "What? Before you, Sirius protected me. Then he left me and I had the worst four years of my life. Now, I've got you."

"Reggie, you can protect yourself. You don't need me. Or Sirius," she insisted. "And you will be brave. You can be brave. I know you can."

Regulus scoffed. Atlanta moved to face him, grabbing both his hands and bent her head towards him. Regulus bending his head till they butted foreheads together. They remained silent for a long time, seemingly communicating without words.

"Kreacher knew something," Atlanta insisted breaking the silence. "Only he was half INSANE and Sirius wasn't bothered. God, he was a moron. Is a moron. He never grows up!"

"He had no chance."

"I know."

They fell into an aggravated silence, still sitting with their heads together. Sirius was baffled. When he'd first met Atlanta all those months ago, when she'd randomly appeared in the hallway in front of him, he thought she was mental. She kept spouting things off about the future. Saying things that made little or no sense.

Just like she was currently.

The next day, though, she was perfectly fine. She was pulled together, posh and collected.

Now, he was sure she was mad, only she'd managed to convince his little brother she wasn't.

They were both mental.

"Sometimes, I think this would be easier if I had simply traveled backwards in time," Atlanta muttered. "I wish I knew what Malfoy was trying to do. And where the hell _he_ went."

Regulus didn't say anything.

"Okay. First step: keep you alive. The Slytherines are going to pissed as hell at you and will more than likely try to murder you in your sleep. I'd give you the Riddler, but I don't think he'd do much, as he's not solid around you."

"I'm pretty sure they've tried to murder me in my sleep a few times already," Regulus muttered. "And I don't want Tom. I don't think he likes me."

"Of course he likes you. He'd like you better if you could make him solid. He's desperate to get back into the Slytherin Common Room for some reason," Atlanta muttered. "I don't want to go to the Slytherin Common Room."

"No one wants to go there," Regulus muttered. "Any idea how to keep me alive in the Common Room?"

Atlanta frowned. "Let's go. We'll figure something out to tell those evil gits in your house."

Atlanta sat back, dropping Regulus' hands.

"I need the Marauder's Map," Atlanta said, pushing herself to her feet. "I need to know who's there before we go in."

"The what?"

"The Marauder's Map," Atlanta said.

Sirius felt his stomach drop out. How the hell did she know about the map?

"I'll need more than that, Atlanta Dorothy Black."

"It's a map, Regulus Arcturus Black. It's how they knew my name when I got here and I didn't get to make one up," Atlanta said. "Potter and Black were staring at it when I appeared."

"I wish I'd been there," Regulus muttered.

"No, you don't," Atlanta said, heading off. "You'd think I was two cards short of a set."

"I do think you're mad," Regulus offered, following her. "One of your best friends is a sentient thing that rose out of a sketch book."

Huh?

"Ah, but my dear Reggie, you know I speak the truth! And let's not talk about Riddler, okay? Bugger, I told him I'd pick him up after class and take him to the library."

Sirius didn't catch Regulus's response to this statement, because there was a loud crash and they both began laughing, till Atlanta screeched.

"REGGIE! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!"

"Uh, no," Regulus offered.

"Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod" she chanted, stringing the words together. "I can't believe I found it! This was what Harry was looking for when I got here! I'm sure I heard Hermione say they were looking for this and that's why Ginny and I had to leave the room!"

"Then you went out, fought, got dirty, were told by the Dark Lord to gather your dead and then you ran after Malfoy and POOF you were here."

"But, Regulus, don't you UNDERSTAND? Oh," Atlanta breathed, sounding awed. "Oh. Reggie. Reggie! Moldy Trousers is doing again! He's still doing it in this reality with the same objects! I can feel _IT._"

The clattering footsteps began again, getting father away.

"Atlanta! ATLANTA DOROTHY BLACK!"

Sirius heard running and a door bang shut. Coming out of his hiding spot, he felt mystified and curious. It'd been a long time since he'd felt curious to the point he wanted to get to the bottom of something. He made his way out of the mysterious room and entered the hallway. Atlanta and Regulus were no where to be seen, so he hurried to the Hospital Wing. Hopefully he hadn't waited too long to get his nose fixed.


	11. Saving Severus

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do now own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_Saving Severus_**

* * *

Sirius Black was a dimwitted cretin.

The dunderhead failed to realize he'd let something vital slip. Severus was on the brink of figuring out exactly what those Gryffin-dork prats were hiding. They snuck around laughing and joking like no one was going to notice.

Severus had noticed. Within five months of starting at Hogwarts, Severus realized there was something off with Lupin. The child was forever sick, vanishing for days, and he returned looking like someone had put him through a cheese grater.

There was no way Lupin's so called friends had failed to notice. Black loved to stick his nose where it did not belong, so it was safe to assume Sirius Black had stuck his nose into Remus Lupin's personal business.

Black knew, which meant Potter knew.

When Severus still spoke to Evans, she always hushed him when he'd broached the topic of Lupin.

"It's none of your business. Leave him alone," she'd scold.

He'd backed off for Evans, but he was no longer her friend. No longer did he have to back down.

He had vital information.

He would get to the bottom of the so called mystery and use it to his benefit.

The clues had fallen into his lap over the years. First, Lupin's mysterious illness. Third year there was a change between three of the Marauders. Fifth year, they all got super excited and whispered more often a few days before Lupin went off "ill." This year…this year there was even something else added to the mix. Somehow, whatever they were up to allowed them to get away with things. They pulled more pranks this year and did not get caught.

It was time for it to end. It was time to expose Lupin, expose whatever they all got up to at night. Time to find out what they used to get away with all their pranks.

It was time to get all four of them kicked out of school for good.

Tonight all the pieces had fallen into place. Discord had been sewn in the days following the last time Potter and Black had "pranked" Severus. Lupin was distant from Black the Village Idiot and Potter, spending more time with Black Number Two.

This left Black on his own tonight. Where Severus was able to use a few werewolf taunts to get a rise out of Black the Village Idiot. Judging by Black's angry reaction…Lupin _might be_ a werewolf.

It seemed unlikely, but why else would Black get so angry?

Severus had hit the right buttons tonight before dropping the werewolf taunt, as usually those got little reaction out of Black besides a twitching eye. Severus had hinted at the pair being poofs and that Lupin was in a secret relationship with a Ravenclaw. That as all Severus needed get Black let a few key things slip in his rash anger.

It was so easy to get a rise out of Griffyndors. Insults worked best.

The moment he had really insulted Lupin by insinuating Lupin was a werewolf after the homosexual comments, Black went off like a geyser. The most vital information was slipped in an offhand comment to go hit the knot on the Willow and hopefully have some sense knocked into Severus' thick head.

Granted, Black didn't word it that way. He had used much more color language and improper grammar. How Black the Village Idiot had been raised in the same environment as his younger brother was beyond Severus.

But, Severus had what be needed to know: the knot in the Whomping Willow did something.

Severus had always wondered why on Earth the mad and slightly brilliant Headmaster would plant a killer tree on the grounds. But, Severus highly doubted anyone, even the insane Headmaster, would admit a werewolf.

That was simply absurd.

But, the deadly tree had appeared when they started first year.

When Lupin started first year.

Somehow he'd managed to escape from Black without a hex, jinx or punch. Black had only managed to shove him into the wall a few times before Severus had gotten what he wanted and Madam Pince had shown up, breaking up the scuffle.

So, Severus went to his Common Room for some thinking.

The werewolf taunts always got more of a rise out of Black than the accusations of him and/or Lupin being gay. Severus honestly wondered how Black managed to keep his reputation as a ladies man when he was clearly into his male friend.

Maybe he failed to realize it? Black was a dense, dimwitted fool.

After a half hour of deep thinking, Severus decided it was high time to get to the bottom of the mystery of the Whomping Willow and hurried out of the Slytherin Common Room. Severus hurried up the stairs, heading for the Entrance Hall.

Grinning, Severus entered the Entrance Hall, heading for the doors. They were still unlocked, as it was still before curfew. He tossed the doors open and strode into the cool, early spring air. With purpose, he headed for the tree.

"What are you doing?"

Severus paused, turning. Black Number Two was walking towards him, coming from the greenhouses. She wasn't dressed in her usual lurid robes, but Muggle clothing. She was wearing a rather strange looking Muggle overcoat as well as a scarf that was about twenty different colors and rather long. It was coiled around her neck a few times, but still hung almost to the ground. As she neared him, she stopped and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"I could ask the same," Severus commented dryly, eyeing her pockets. "A nighttime jaunt to the greenhouse?"

"Of course," she answered blithely, flashing him a cheeky grin. In the moonlight, her overly white teeth glittered. "Seeing you're not heading towards the greenhouses, but out onto the grounds, I have a feeling you might be heading for no good."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "What I am doing is none of your business."

"Ah, but it is, tragically," she said, rocking back and forth on her feet. "I have this strange feeling you're about to do something you ought not to. Something you're doing out of anger, revenge and spite."

She sniffed the air. Her green eyes seemingly glowed faintly in the darkness.

"Yes. You're excited, angry and vindictive. Hmmm," she hummed, staring up at the moon. "Ah. Crap."

Her slightly glowing eyes snapped back to Severus and he backed up a bit from her, as she suddenly looked rather scary. She took her hands out of her pockets and balling her fists. Her whole face changed from amusement and curiosity, to fury.

"He told you how to get the Willow to stop whomping, didn't he?"

Her voice was low, dangerous and was laced with indignation. Severus drew himself up to his full height and glared down at her. He didn't bother to ask how she'd guessed. He was too close to let someone like Black Number Two stop him.

"I will find out what they are hiding. It's not my fault that Black let it slip," Severus snapped, shoving his nose into her face.

The action did not cause her to stand down. If anything it incensed her further. While she wasn't as scary as she'd been in the hall the other day whens she'd butted into the fight Potter and Black picked with him, she was still frightening enough for Severus to take a step backwards.

She might punch him.

"Why is it any of your business what they are up to, Snape?" she snapped, taking a step towards him. "Did it ever occur to you that you've no right poking your nose into places it doesn't belong? I doubt it. But, guess what? You're wrong."

"I'm wrong?" Snape yelled. "We'll see about that."

He stormed passed her, heading for the Willow. He heard her start after him, but he used his longer legs to keep ahead of her. He came to a halt at his first obstacle: getting to the knot in the tree.

"Give up now. Or you will be sorry," Black Number Two informed him in a flat tone. "I know Black is a first class ignoramus, but I doubt he meant for you to actually come out here and get beat up by a tree. He'd rather do it himself."

Severus rounded on her and glared. Anger coursed through his veins. She clearly did not entertain the idea Lupin was a werewolf.

"I thought you'd want to know where your friend goes. Why would they hide him in under a tree?"

"Because he's a freaking Tree Fairy," Black Number Two snapped. "See the full moon?"

Full moon. Severus glanced up at the bright moon.

"What the hell is a Tree Fairy? Something you made up, no doubt."

In the dark, he saw her grey-green eyes flash yellow for a moment. He took another step away from her, suddenly somewhat fearful of what she might do. Black Number Two had never stuck him as dangerous till the day she'd screamed at Black the Village Idiot in the halls and punched him in the nose twice. With both hands. When she sent a silent hex on Severus's hands and glued him to the floor, he knew she was a force to me reckoned with. The curse had been had been Dark. It was too powerful, too mean-spirited to be anything else. He wasn't sure what she'd used on Potter, but he complained for days afterwards and sent glares at Black Number Two's direction.

She was no longer on friendly terms with Potter or Black the Village Idiot. Severus saw it as a win for himself.

"Tree Fairies are half humans who enjoy nature," Black Number Two snapped. "It's a cross between a human and Bowtruckle. Ever get bit by one? Don't. Or you'll spend the full moon wishing you were living under a tree."

Severus blinked at her, wondering why she thought he'd believe that for a second. Her face remained hard, but her eyes kept darting towards the school. Severus got the feeling she was waiting for someone.

She was delaying him. On purpose.

"You are wasting my time. Just because I didn't take the soft option of Care for Magical Creatures third and fourth year, doesn't mean I don't know about Magical Creatures. All this talk of the full moon, now, that makes me think those idiots are hiding something rather…vicious under this tree," Severus snapped, pulling his wand out. He pointed it at Black Number Two. "I want them gone. All four of them. They don't deserve to be here. I want them expelled and this is the means in which I plan to achieve it."

"By getting the crap beaten out of you by a fracking tree?" Black Number Two demanded. "What is the matter with you? Are you so petty that you are going to sink to this level? Endanger your life to a murderous tree?"

"I don't have time for you," Severus drawled and flicked his wand at Black Number Two, sending her backwards. He heard her land with a thud and he turned back to the tree. He tried to stun the tree, but it didn't work. Finally, after getting knocked around by the branches, he managed to dart through and get to the knot. He hit the knot and the tree ceased moving. He noticed a tunnel entrance open up. Smiling, he lit his wand and started down into the tunnel.

"SNAPE!"

He turned for a moment, wondering who was yelling at him. The voice was too low to be Black Number Two. She should also remained in the body bind for at least an hour. Shaking his head, Severus continued down till he heard the opening snap shut over his head. The tree creaked back to life. He continued onward, ducking as he continued forward. The tunnel was low, not built for a full grown adult but rather a child. Severus heard commotion above him, so he sped up. He was going to figure out what was down this tunnel if it killed him.

The tunnel was long and by the time he noticed it turning upwards, he was sweating and panting from his efforts. The tunnel ended and Severus raised his wand upwards to find a trap door. He was about to start climbing up to the door when he heard it: howling.

Severus froze for a moment.

"It can't be," he breathed.

He was right.

Lupin was a werewolf.

Slowly he climbed up the ladder. He reached forward, about to grab the door to take a quick peek. He needed confirmation. He needed proof to get those idiots kicked out.

"SNAPE!"

Someone gripped him around the waist and wrenched him away from the trap door, but not before he was able to push it open.

He caught a glimpse: the glowing eyes, the snot, the barred, sharp teeth dripping with blood.

Next thing he saw was blackness as his wand fell from his hand and he crashed into the dirt floor of the tunnel. He heard more growling, barking and something snapping shut. What sounded like an all out brawl broke out overhead with howling, barking and yipping.

"Get off of me!" Snape snapped, suddenly realizing someone was on top of him.

"What is your problem!?" the person screamed. "Honestly, do you have a death wish?"

Severus scrambled to his feet and glowered at the person in front of him. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found he was faced with Potter.

"I know what you're hiding," Severus sneered, his need to be vindictive winning out over the fear and anger at being sent to his death. "A werewolf."

"We're not hiding him," Potter snapped.

"I'm telling the Headmaster."

"Go ahead! Tell him how you're a freaking moron!" Potter snapped. "I just saved your sorry arse and all you can think about is getting us in trouble! I did NOTHING wrong. Peter did NOTHING wrong. Remus did NOTHING wrong!"

"You did not save me!" Severus roared.

Potter had the nerve to roll his eyes. "Sure. You tell yourself that if I hadn't grabbed you, you'd not be bitten right now. Or dead. Let's go. If you make a wrong move, I'll hex you to the ends of the earth."

Severus noticed he was without his wand and Potter has his pointed straight at Severus's chest.

"So much for being a hero," Severus snapped.

"Move it." Potter used his wand to indicate for Severus to start moving.

"I dropped my wand."

"Watch me not care. I'll get it for you later," Potter snapped. "Move. Now. We need to get out of here."

Potter pushed Severus forward and they made their way out of the tunnel. Once they reached the opening, Severus was met with the face of the Headmaster, who did not look all that pleased. Severus tried a few times to explain his side of the story, but the Headmaster hushed him, giving him a rather cold stare. Standing next to the Headmaster was Peter Pettigrew, who was ringing his hands together looking worried.

Black was nowhere to be found.

Either of them.


	12. You Look Like Me on Sunday

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I don't own it. **

* * *

Remus slowly regained awareness of his surroundings. The dust and rotting wood scents filled his nose, along with the smells of a bright spring morning. He did not want to open his eyes, for fear of the pain seeping in and the reality of his situation. For a second, he wanted to imagine he was waking up as a normal human being on a spring morning. The awareness, though, soon took over and Remus was more than mindful of every scratch, every broken bone and every ache. Groaning, he slowly pushed himself upward and cracked his eyes open slowly.

The transformation had been his roughest in a long time. He had a sinking feeling it had to do with the fact he had not been with his friends, running around and playing as he often spent his transformations while at school. Things had been tense since Remus had gotten wind of more bullying on the part of James and Sirius. It was the last straw. For him as well as Atlanta and Regulus.

He took stock of his injuries, cringing at the bruises and deep cuts. He was sure his ankle was broken and his arm looked like it had been spilt in half. Quelling the need to throw up, he looked around for something to warp his arm in till Madam Pomfrey appeared to heal him. That was when he spotted her: Atlanta Black was passed out in a corner of the room. Her hair was a mess and she was bloody. She had several large scratched across her face. Without thinking, Remus scrambled to his feet and went to her.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," he cried, tears spilling out of his eyes. He gently rolled her over with his good arm and gasped.

She was dressed in a thin shirt and jeans— well, what was left of them as they were ripped to shreds. She was caked in dried blood and bruised on almost every inch of her formally pale skin. There were several bit marks on her as well.

Remus crashed to the ground and allowed himself to all out bawl. He did not care he was sixteen. He did not care that he was a guy and thus not allowed to cry.

He'd ruined her life. And ended his. There was no way he'd be allowed to continue, to exist now that he'd destroyed another life.

The noise he was making, woke Atlanta up. Her eyes flew open. Remus choked.

"Atlanta?" he choked out.

Much too quickly, she sat up and looked around. Her face filled with concern and she reached forward, wincing slightly as she gripped his shoulder.

"Remus, what's wrong? Why are you sobbing?"

Remus choked a few more times and threw himself away from her. He crashed to the ground, landing hard on his shoulder. He bit down on his lip to prevent the scream that wanted to tear through him. His shoulder was dislocated.

"Remus!"

Atlanta leapt to her feet and tried to come after him, but fell with a thud. "Wow. That was a bit rougher than I imagined. Bugger."

The sun broke through the clouds. Remus looked at her again in the morning sunlight as he scooted himself across the floor away from her. He suddenly realized he was naked. He grabbed a rug and covered himself.

He felt exhausted.

He as in pain.

He felt wretched.

He felt more nauseous than before. He tried not to throw up, as he hated throwing up, but the need to empty his all ready empty stomach became too strong and he threw up stomach bile. When he was done, Atlanta was staring at him, a look of concern on her face.

"Remus, is it always this bad?" she asked.

"You'll find out," he managed to get out. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What— oh. Remus, no. NO!" she cried.

She scrambled over to him, kneeling on the other side of him from where he'd been sick. She grabbed his hand, wrapping it in both of her freezing cold hands. He shivered.

"You did this to me in animal form! I was a dog last night when this happened. I'm an Animagus. I turn into a black mutt thing. I'm like a runt of a Lab litter."

She laughed darkly for a moment. Remus felt there was a joke behind her comment he did not understand.

"I was a little too small to really wrangle you like Black or Potter, but Potter had to…well, Black is a certifiable moron and hinted to Snape how to get passed the tree, so of course the toe rag did. He didn't listen to me when I tried to stop him. He stunned me with some sort of stunner. Because it was the full moon last night, it didn't hold me for long."

"What does the moon have to do with how Snape's magic effected you?"

She bit her bottom lip. "My parents were both werewolves. I've got some wolfish qualities and during the full moon they are…stronger than normal."

Remus nodded.

"Anyways, Potter showed up, but couldn't get passed the tree. So I transformed and I was small enough to get to the knot. So I stopped the tree and hurried down the hole with Potter following. I'm sure Potter is wondering what the hell was going on, but he didn't ask. So, Snape got to the trap door and opened it. He might have seen you, but I leaped in and closed it. I tried to distract you, but you were all ready agitated because you smelled humans. I stayed in dog form. Till I popped out at some point. Clearly."

"You're an Animagi?"

Remus had trouble wrapping his head around everything she'd spewed out at him.

Atlanta suddenly fell back, falling hard on her rear. She made a face as she did this.

"Yeah."

"And your parents were both werewolves? I thought werewolves couldn't reproduce in that manner," Remus said.

"Male werewolves in human form had impregnate women left and right. Their offspring will, if they are wizards, have some wolf like characteristics, like heighten sense of smell and sight, but they'll be human. But, females…it is unheard of to have a female carry to term. I'm…an abnormality."

Remus nodded. "So…if I…I could have a family? They'd be normal? My kids wouldn't turn into monsters?"

"You are not a monster, Remus Lupin," Atlanta ordered, wearing the same fierce expression Sirius wore each time he said the same thing. It was odd how much she looked like Sirius at that moment.

"Have you seen yourself?" Remus gestured vaguely at her person.

"Whatever. Where is my wand?" she asked. She looked around the dusty, rotting room. "Huh, where is my coat? Oh, bugger. I left it on the ground near the tree. Bloody hell."

She struggled to her feet, grimacing. She started for the door.

"Wait, wait!"

"Pomfrey is going to be here shortly to get you, I can't be here, Remus," she said quickly. "Just don't feel bad. You've beat Black up worse than this, trust me. Also, I heal fast. I bet your ankle is better, right?"

Remus noticed he ankle was no longer burning, but had in fact heeled the small break. His minor bruises were fading all ready. By lunch, he'd be almost bruise free. He studied Atlanta as she stood up and took stock of her clothing shards. She frowned as she studied her former shirt, which wasn't really covering much any longer. Luckily, her bra was still in tact.

Remus noticed a small tattoo on her stomach.

"What is your tattoo?"

"Oh. I forgot about that. It's a moon and a dog," she said.

Remus stared at it for a moment longer.

"Oh! Wand!" she exclaimed, pulling it out of her front pocket. "Remus, will you keep my secret? About my parents? People don't usually react kindly when they hear that my parents were both werewolves."

"I'll keep quiet," Remus said quietly. His heart sank a little. No matter what, any connection to werewolves bore no good.

"Thanks, Remus," Atlanta said, transfiguring her clothing back to actual clothes. "Things won't always be this dire. I strongly believe someday, werewolves won't be seen as monsters or looked down upon. You are a good person."

"Does anyone else know about you?"

"Nope. You're the only one I've trusted, besides Dumbledore, with the information about my parents. You're the only one to know about Toto."

"Toto?"

"Yeah. Uh, the little black dog. Well, not as little, as I'm larger than the dog from the movie," Atlanta admitted. "You know, _The Wizard of Oz_."

"Ah. Yes, I've seen it. And read the book."

"Well, the guy who taught me how to be an Animagus thought it was a fitting name, seeing as I was totally obsessed with the movie as a little girl."

They heard a noise somewhere below them.

"I'm outtie."

Atlanta threw herself out of the living room. Remus heard her struggle up the broken stairs. She collapsed somewhere upstairs moment before Madam Pomfrey appeared, looking rather surprised to find Remus sitting up and wide awake.

* * *

Sirius's fingers were bleeding. He failed to notice. He continued to chew on his nonexistent fingernails, waiting for Remus to wake up. Remus has been out cold since Sirius arrived, even though Madam Pomfrey told him Remus was wide away when she went to retrieve him this morning. She was amazed, as his injuries were the worst they had been in months.

Sirius knew why the injuries had been bad. It was all his fault. He hadn't slept a wink the night before. After puking his guts out when James made him realize what he'd done, he'd taken to the bathroom. He emerged and went straight to the Hospital Wing, where he hid in a near by broom closet all night, periodically dry heaving into a bucket.

"You're going to chew your fingers off."

Sirius jerked backwards, almost falling over. Before him, standing in a beam of sunlight, dust dancing all around her making it look like glitter was Atlanta Black. It took Sirius a moment before he realized she looked like crap. She was bruised and had several scratches all over her face and didn't seem to radiate her usual determination and mischief.

Sirius pulled his fingers from his mouth.

"I know what you did. So does Remus. I told him this morning when he woke up and found me batter and broken near by."

The blood drained from Sirius. He had the urge to vomit again. Luckily, there was a container for this under Remus's bed, as he often felt like throwing up after particularly rough transformation. Sirius ducked under the bed and dry heaved for a moment till the scent of Atlanta began to fill his noise. He startled, wondering how she could possibly move so damn fast. And silently.

"I was in animal form, nimrod," she chided, no humor in her tone.

"Your—"

"Yeah. I spoke to James at breakfast," she sighed. "So, my secret is out. I'm a black lab. A little one. So, hello, Padfoot, I'm Toto."

She stuck out her hand to him while he was half bent over a bucket. Sirius sat up and stared at her in confusion. He took her hand, knowing she wouldn't stop holding it out till he took it. They shook and she quickly took her hand back.

"I don't feel like explaining anything to you. I'm mad as hell and I'm pretty sure I am going to hex you eight ways to Jupiter."

Without another word, she turned around and stormed out. Sirius let his head fall onto the bed next to Remus and began chewing on the inside of his cheek. He wasn't sure how long he had been doing this before he felt a hand on his head and a confused noise issued from a groggy Remus.

"Ghahg. Whada you doing?" Remus asked, sounding almost as if he was speaking through a mouthful of cotton.

Sirius turned his head, not having the energy to actually sit up straight. Between his actual vomiting last night and the dry heaving, his abdominals weren't doing so well. On top of being wretched, Sirius was loosing a battle to be brave and pull himself together.

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Sirius pleaded, not caring he sounded like a whiny girl. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't think."

"Sirius, move."

"What?"

"I feel sick. Move," Remus moaned.

"Just throw up on me. I deserve it. Here, throw up in my precious hair," Sirius offered, moving his head closer to Remus.

"Sirius, I don't want to throw up in your hair."

"I deserve it. And much worst."

Remus sighs a long suffering sort of sigh. "Sirius."

"Please, just barf on me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Atlanta told me what you did. Now let me puke in a bucket."

Sirius picked up the bowl and hands it to Remus. Knowing Remus hated when people witness his being sick, Sirius closed his eyes and began to hum loudly. It was not loud enough, as he heard the noises of Remus retching. It was like a knife to his heart.

It was all his fault. If he hadn't been stupid, if he had THOUGHT before opening his big mouth, then they'd been there last night for the transformation and Remus would be in better shape.

Sirius needed to think more. No more hexing Snape. No more speaking to Snape.

This was all Snape's fault.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was his fault. Sirius Black needed to start thinking.

Remus smacked his arm and he pulled his gnawed at fingers out of his ears.

"What happened to your fingers?" Remus asked quietly in a hoarse voice. Sirius glanced down at his nails and shrugged. "You chewed your nails off?"

Once again, Sirius shrugged. Remus sighed.

"Snape knows. Oh my Merlin, Snape knows," Sirius groaned, ramming his hands into his hair, forgetting those fingers were tender and more than likely still bleeding. "I cannot believe I am so stupid. I didn't even realize what I'd said till I relaying how I'd one upped Snape and I hoped he got beaten up by the tree, since I couldn't do it because, well, Madam Pince showed up and kicked us out and Snape was gone by the time I managed to get out of the library."

Sirius yanked his hands out of his hair.

"I went back to the dorm, told James what happened and…" Sirius trailed off, not even remember what he'd hoped. "James realized instantly how much of an idiot I'd been. After they'd finally convinced me…I threw up. A lot. I feel so….rotten."

Sirius chanced a look at Remus, who was looking at him with a stony face.

"It's not enough, though, is it?"

Fear crept into his heart. Remus had never given him that expressionless face that reminded him of the face his father wore.

"Sirius?"

"What?"

"Do you know what Dumbledore said? He was told?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. I was in the closet outside till Poppy brought you in. I bet he'll be down at some point," Sirius admitted. "Atlanta was in here before you woke up."

Remus sat up a bit straighter, his face changing from the stony, blank expression to one of worry. "How was she?"

"She looked like she'd gotten into a fight, but she didn't seem to be in pain. She told me what happened, that I was stupid and then she told me her name was Toto. And she helped save Snape. I guess James and Atlanta saved him. She said something about James."

Remus nodded, looking away.

"If Snape tries to tell anyone, I'll beat him up. Hex his brains out. Anything you want," Sirius offered without thinking. "And I don't think Dumbledore will kick you out. It's not your fault. If anyone needs to be kicked out it is me. Me. Me alone."

"Sirius," Remus said, sounding as if he was so tired he was about to drop dead. Sirius shut up. "While you are a git, prat and stupid, I'm not mad. Atlanta explained to me she is not hurt as she was in animal form, and that she was sure James got Snape away. Seeing neither James or Snape is in here with me, I'm sure they are fine."

Remus paused.

"I am dangerous."

"Remus! No!"

"Please. I'm not mad at you. I know you didn't mean to send Snape to his death, but I feel horrible and I'd like to be alone."

Sirius felt worried and scared. He didn't want to leave Remus.

"You have to be mad at me."

"I am not. No one was hurt."

"But…"

"Leave. Please. I'll see you later," Remus said, his eyes drooping.

Sirius knew well enough that Remus was indeed tired, so he quickly stood up and left. He ran into someone after he quietly shut the hospital door behind him. He backed up a bit to find he'd crashed head first into Dumbledore.

"Oh. Uh. Dum—Pro—Head—Professor Dumbledore. So-s-s-s-sorry."

"Ah, Mr. Black. Just the man I'm looking for. We have several points to discuss before I send you off to class this morning. You've made a rather large mess," Dumbledore said seriously, no twinkle in his eye.

Sirius gulped. He knew whatever he got, it was well deserved. He nodded soberly and followed Dumbledore.

* * *

Remus saw nothing of Sirius for the next two days.

The boy vanished.

James informed Remus that Sirius had lost a total of one hundred points for Gryffindor, canceling out the fifty points James received for saving Snape and the twenty-five points Peter got for going to Dumbledore. Atlanta's role in the matter was left out, due to the fact Snape hadn't seen her and she was an illegal Animagus.

Snape was put under an Unbreakable Vow not to tell a soul that Remus was a werewolf. He lost a total of one hundred points for being stupid enough to go to the tree in the first place instead of going to a teacher with his suspicions.

Sirius was in detention for the rest of the year, cleaning the bathrooms Muggle style.

James didn't seem bothered in the least that Sirius had not been seen for the past two days. In fact, James refused to call Sirius by his first name. James referred to Sirius as "Divvy Mutt."

Remus searched out Atlanta before he headed to Potions his first day back. He found her sitting at the Slytherin table when he walked into the Great Hall. She wasn't speaking to Regulus, simply sitting next to him wearing a blank expression. The young Slytherin kept shooting concerned looks at Atlanta. Remus noted all her injuries had faded and she looked like her usual perfect self in her eggplant and sky blue robes. Her hair was shorter, though, he noticed. It no longer hung passed her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. It stopped at her shoulders.

Remus cleared his throat. Regulus started and the entire Slytherin table jerked. Remus was sure there was some sort of rumor to what had occurred, but Remus wasn't privy to any of the rumors. Atlanta slowly looked up and appeared startled. Without a word she rose to her feet suddenly and shouted, "Remus!"

"Erm, hi, Atlanta," he greeted, looking bemused. "I was wondering how you were?"

"Oh, fine. You?"

"Getting better."

"What happened?" Regulus demanded suddenly. "My brother is missing and you two are acting bizarre."

"I got into a fight, I told you," Atlanta said, lifting her legs over the bench. She walked around, grabbing Remus by the hand. She dragged him out of the Great Hall, towards the Entrance Hall.

"Who did you tell him you got into a fight with?" Remus asked as she toted him down another hallway filled with unused classrooms. She chose a classroom and entered.

"Sirius," she answered. "Hence why he's missing. It's kind of true. The school knows that Sirius said something to Snape and as a prank, Snape almost got hurt till James saved him. And I was so mad, Sirius and I got into a fight. I won, of course, hence the Missing Numpty."

Remus blinked at her a few times.

"Numpty. Scottish for idiot? Well, informally. Haven't you heard it? It's an awesome word. I plan to call Sirius that for the rest of his life. Numpty Black."

"Where is he?"

"Dunno. Dead?"

"Atlanta," he admonished.

"Sorry. Clearly you're not as pissed off at him as I am," she muttered, looking unhappy. "Remus, he almost got you to bite another student. He put another person's life in danger. All because he can't keep his whole grudge, or whatever the hell it is, against Snape in check. Granted, I don't think Snape is the greatest person alive, he's just…"

Atlanta struggled for a full two minutes before giving up trying to figure out what Snape was.

"Addy, I'm not mad because Sirius _is_ an idiot. I'm not mad, because in the end, Snape is okay. In the end, no one is hurt forever and I believe Sirius might have learned a lesson from all this. I know James has."

Atlanta nodded. "I know. Who knew James Potter would grow up in an instant?"

"Well, I believe the danger he put himself in caught up with him," Remus commented. "He didn't transform, did he?"

Atlanta shook her head. Remus narrowed his eyes.

"How did you know?"

"About what?"

"The fact they are Animagi," Remus clarified. "You do know."

Atlanta grinned, rather sheepishly.

"I saw Sirius transform once, then noticed he was followed by a stag who had a rat on it's antlers. Kind of weird, right?" Remus nodded. "Well, it makes sense. Animals are safe around werewolves. Those three would never let you suffer on your own. I say this somewhat grudgingly, but Sirius especially wouldn't stand for you going through it alone."

She looked rather put out. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

"I think he cares more about you than either of you realizes," she grumbled.

Remus felt something inside him glow for some reason. He felt warm and somewhat fuzzy when he thought about Sirius caring for him in the manner which Atlanta might be suggesting. He quickly quelled it. It was ludicrous.

"So, all illegal…animals at Hogwarts know about one another?"

"Pretty much. Unless there's ones we don't know about," Atlanta offered. "But, I doubt it. It's not exactly an easy thing to achieve at a young age."

"You did it."

"I had a lot of help from another Animagus."

Remus nodded. "Who?"

"This friend of my dad's."

"The werewolf?"

"Yes."

"How was that? Growing up with two parents who were werewolves? Who took care of you when you a baby on the nights of the full moon?"

Atlanta cast her eyes at the ground, dropping her arms to her side.

"I never knew my birth mother. She died after I was born. I was raised…I was adopted," Atlanta said, looking up. Remus felt a flicker of a lie in her statement. "So, I don't know what it was like. My adoptive mother died shortly after I turned seventeen. She knew the origins of my birth parents."

"I'm sorry…" Remus mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

"They were killed by Voldemort," she stated bluntly, her face hard. "My adoptive mother, my birth mother and birth father. I at least got to know the man before he was killed."

Remus gasped. Things she said the first night she appeared came rolling back into his head.

"It's how Moldy Trousers rolls. Never believe him when he says he wants equal rights for magical creatures."

"I don't even know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything."

Atlanta stared at him. Remus was at a loss at what to do. Without giving it another thought, he threw his arms around her and hugged her. She never spoke about her family. She was like most Blacks in that sense, very private. Remus respected that. He pulled away, feeling as if he might have lifted some burden off her shoulders.

Atlanta looked rather wet eyed. She blinked a few times and gave him a smile. Clearing his throat, because he felt awkward, he started talking.

"Dumbledore spoke to me, telling me it wasn't my fault. They are putting a lock on the trap door."

Atlanta's eyes went large.

"I think you know what that means, don't you?"

"I do. I'm pretty sure the lock be Marauder proof."

Remus felt miserable, remembering what Dumbledore had told him. He knew it was necessary after the Incident, but it made him sad his friends would no longer there with him. When he thought this, though, he got mad. No one should be with him. He was a monster that needed to be locked away.

"It won't be Marauder proof," Atlanta informed him, a crooked smile appearing. "But, that's neither here nor there."

Atlanta shrugged.

"Do you really have no idea where Sirius is?" Remus asked again.

"No. Sorry. I haven't gone looking for him, though. If you really want to find him, as Reggie. Reggie's got a talent for finding things no one else can."


	13. Knife to Your Heart

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not won it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 21 June 2013_

* * *

**_Knife to Your Heart_**

* * *

Severus was mad.

No. That was not a strong enough word.

Severus was furious, seething and apoplectic.

It was unfair. Unjust. Gratuitous.

Black had not been expelled or arrested for attempted murder.

The werewolf was still in school.

And his friends did not seem to care that he was a monster. How could they remain friends with that thing?

Severus, a perfectly normal human being, had no close friends.

Lupin had close friends. Potter, Evans, Pettigrew were standing by his side. The only friend Lupin failed to have was Black, but he'd gained two other Blacks: Black Number Two and Regulus. He could not believe Regulus Black, a SLYTHERIN, was being seen with Lupin.

In PUBLIC.

And there was nothing Severus could say to warn the idiot off. Other than to scorn him for being seen with a Gryffindor, but this did not seem to bother Regulus. Since he ripped his patch off in a fit of childish anger, Regulus had adopted a care not attitude when dealing with Slytherins.

Severus was also pissed because his Potions partner had left him. She was seated at the table with Evans, Potter and Lupin. Black the Rejected was now seated at a table behind Severus, huddled in a corner refusing to look at anyone. Potter and Black Number Two spent weeks upon weeks shooting glares at Black, while Lupin gave the idiot looks of sadness.

Yes. Severus Tobias Snape had been pissed off, furious, and apoplectic for over a month.

The Marauders were at odds. They were no longer the Merry Band of Mischief Makers, but the fact of the matter was it did not help cheer Severus up at all. It was working against him for the first time in six year. He wanted to hex, jinx and curse all of them, yet no one was picking on him.

For the first time since he'd stepped into the magical world, Severus Snape was not being bullied.

And it annoyed him.

Which, disgusted him.

This led to being more pissed off.

The Marauders plus Black Number Two and Black Number Two's Prince Puppy Dog all avoided Severus as if he were contaminated with the Black Plague.

A number of times, he attempted to provoke Black the Reject or Potter. Black the Reject had hearing problems and Potter glared and walked away.

The only time he'd been approached by anyone in the last month was when Black Number Two dropped his wand in his breakfast the morning after the Melee Under the Willow. She dropped it as if it was a disgusting object, right into his plate of food. Without a word, she turned and headed straight for the Gryffindor table, where an irate looking Potter sat, with a glum looking Pettigrew at his elbow. She threw herself in front of Potter and they began to have what looked like a heated conversation.

Evans, it was clear, had no idea what was going on. She appeared glad that Black Number Two was willing to fill the empty space Black the Reject left at the table. Suffering Potter and Pettigrew would cause anyone to go insane. Severus did not understand why Evans always sat near Potter. She claimed to hate Potter.

Severus let out a loud puff of air and went back to doing what he had been doing before he allowed his anger to distract him. He chopped his roots up and glared at the directions. The author of the book was a complete imbecile. The pillock had obviously never actually brewed any thing worth using before in his life. Each potion in the book was wrong. While Severus would never admit it, figuring out what exactly was wrong with each potion was harder without Black Number Two. She always seemed to just _know_ where the problems were. She did not always know what the problem was, but she knew where it was and after prodding, she'd remember what they ought to do.

"It happens when a Potions Mistress lives with you. Even if you suck at Potions," Black Number Two had groused. "Especially when you suck."

And now, thanks to Black the Reject, she was gone.

Severus even missed her disastrous potions that didn't come out right because even after telling him the changes to fix it, she'd follow the directions. Or something.

She was really dismal at potions.

"OH MY GOD."

Severus jerked up and looked in the direction of the Gryffindors. Severus expected to be met with an exploded cauldron or something along those lines— as Lupin was over there and he couldn't even boil water— but all he saw was a rather irate Black Number Two waving a silver knife around.

"This is the DUMBEST author in the whole world! Why can't he write the directions correct?" she ranted, the knife in her left hand coming close to slashing through Potter and Evans. Potter and Evans ducked away from her.

What occurred next happened in slow motion. Black Number Two waved her hand forward to make her next outraged point and the knife suddenly flew out of her hand, sailing across the room at Severus. Thinking quickly, Severus ducked. Black the Reject, though, failed to take note of her outburst as the next noise in the room was a shocked yelp of pain from Sirius Black.

"Is there a knife in my chest?"

"Ohmigod," Black Number Two gasped, putting her hands over her mouth.

The classroom was silent. A pin could have dropped on the stone floor and it would have been heard by each student.

Black stared at the silver knife that was poking out of his chest, right above where his heart was rumored to be. Severus doubted Black actually had a heart, especially after proving that at age seventeen he was more than willing to kill.

"I so did not mean to do that, Professor," Black Number Two gasped. "I-I-I was just upset that this stupid guy who wrote this book is clearly a certifiable moron. I mean, look at this! I followed the directions! I'm a complete fail at potions, yet I even know these directions will yield crap!"

"You just knifed me."

Black the Reject seemed to be in shock.

"I didn't mean to!"

Where was the professor?

"You threw a knife and it is embedded in my chest."

"I could have been aiming at Snape's head!"

"But you didn't hit him! And you would have missed his head! Look, his head, my chest. You would have stabbed him in the chest too!"

"Don't you know anything about physics? The motion of an object, and the speed…the trajectory will change for an object flying through the air as gravity pulls it unless something reacts against the pull of gravity or something! I never took advanced physics! The point is, I might have been aiming at his head!"

"BUT YOU HIT ME!"

"Well, maybe the powers that be thought you deserved it?"

Black Number Two now had her hands on her hips. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the fact Black had a knife sticking out of his chest.

Severus was interested to know if it was indeed an accident. How had she managed to throw the knife with such force to lodge it in Black the Reject's chest from all the way across the room? Even if she was trying on purpose, it'd be a feat. On accident, it was highly unlikely.

"Yeah, more than likely," Black said, slumping suddenly.

"Miss Black! You will…you will…"

The room all startled when Professor Slughorn attempted to do something. He looked at a loss on what to do about the attempt at murder that had taken place in front of a classroom full of witnesses.

"Serve detention the rest of this year. That's correct, Professor Slughorn. I will. Now, I think I'll drag Black to the nurse. Come along, James."

Potter jumped a few feet at being addressed, but hurried over to Black and pulled him off his stool. Black Number Two, for her part, tore the door open and waited for Potter to drag Black the No Longer Likely to be Rejected out. Black seemed to have lost the will to walk. The cause was either from blood loss or realizing he was a huge git.

After the classroom door slammed shut, Professor Slughorn attempted to get the rest of the class to get back to work, assuring everyone that Black the No Longer Likely to be Rejected would be all right. Evans pointed out it was an accident and Black Number Two shouldn't serve detention for the rest of the year. Tragically, Slughorn agreed.

The world was…rotten.

As he went back to work, Severus grudgingly thought Evans was right in her assessment.

It was an accident. Black Number Two had been correct when she stated the knife would have hit Severus in the head had he not ducked. Since he doubted Black Number Two wished to murder him in the first place, it was likely an accident. There was no way she'd been aiming for Black.

Black Number Two had looked horrified after she realized she'd stabbed Black. Black Number Two wasn't a great liar. While she could conceal her emotions behind a pureblood mask, when she forgot herself, her emotions shown brightly.

With the matter solved as much as possible in his head, Severus turned to his other problems. Problems that tragically concerned Blacks. And made worse by the actions of a different Black. However, he felt he had gathered enough information to make a decision.

The Dark Lord wanted Regulus Black. He was part of an old, ancient, pureblood family. Of course the Dark Lord wanted Regulus Black.

Why the Dark Lord wanted Atlanta Black was beyond Severus, but he knew his assignment. It'd was easier to do when she was speaking to him, but he had a very good feel for her and knew she would never come quietly. She was too…good. Black Number Two would not be swayed to the Dark Lord. She did not believe in what they were fighting for. She _liked_ Muggles.

What Regulus Black saw in the girl was beyond Severus. (Okay, not that beyond. She was not an ugly girl.)

By the end of class, Severus concluded the best way to get Atlanta Black was through Regulus. And to get Regulus to come quietly, all Severus needed to do was write a letter to a Bellatrix Black.

Smirking, Severus gathered his things and left the classroom.


	14. The Girl Who Came to Stay

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

* * *

_**The Girl Who Came To Stay**_

* * *

Regulus was a total goner before the night Atlanta confessed her parentage to him. After being told Muggle, Muggleborns and half-breeds were less than human his whole life, he was presented with a human being who had two half-breeds for parents. He could hear his mother's shrieks of outrage in the back of his mind, but found he could not care.

He loved her. He could not simply stop because of who her parents happened to be.

Atlanta was brave, kind, lively, and talented. She was loyal, righteous and mischievous.

He simply loved her.

It had happened so quietly, he almost missed it.

It had hit him that the feeling he had been feeling recently was love while staring at the stall door in the boy's toilet on the third floor. Someone had stuck some sort of decal on the door stating something about five and a funny looking "L" with a swiggle line through the center. While trying to figure out what the symbol stood for, Regulus was hit with it: he loved Atlanta Dorothy Black.

A small part of him expected to panic. Atlanta wasn't someone his mother approved of, she wasn't a pureblood.

A larger part of him did not care. He loved Atlanta. End of story.

He had never told her he loved her, figuring he'd keep it to himself. He didn't want to scare her. They did not have exactly a romantic relationship. She was his closest friend, his only actual friend.

He did not want to loose her.

Now, school was almost over. She had an apprenticeship in Edinburgh for the summer with at the Spellsmith Headquarters. It was mostly thanks to Tom, but she was interested in it as well. They were working together. She was the creativity, he was the brains.

Regulus and Atlanta's days together were numbered. Exams had ended and it was nearing time to head off in different directions. Regulus was on the verge of panic till Atlanta told him she'd be back for her seventh year.

He felt a knot ease within him.

"You will?" Regulus had asked.

"Sure. Uh, there's something else I want to tell you."

And she told him about her parents. Her werewolf parents. Regulus felt pained by her expression as she admitted this to him. He knew she was afraid he would take it badly and reject her.

He was far past the point he would be able to reject the girl sitting across from him, surrounded by the junk in their special room. The couch she was seated on had seen better days. The coffee table between them was broken and Regulus was sure the chair he was seated in might give out at any moment, but he still loved the room.

Regulus itched to be sitting next to her and to take her into his arms, but remained seated across from her, gripping the worn cushion underneath him. He watched her itch her bare right arm. She'd left Tom behind in her room. Regulus honestly preferred Tom in her room and not in the odd snake tattoo Tom used to travel around in on her arm.

"So…you don't care?" she asked.

"No. Why would I care? You're still you, are you not?" Regulus asked.

"But…you're a Black, dear," she reminded him. She appeared to be in a state of shock. "I'm pretty sure if your mother were to know what I was, she'd scream I was a filthy half breed. Along with a few other rather…odious things."

"I'm not my mother," Regulus pointed out. "I think for myself, thank you very much."

They stared at one another for a long drawn out moment.

"No. No, you're not her, are you?" she asked quietly.

"No. I'm not. Have you told Tom what you are?" Regulus asked, a bit of jealousy welling up . He hated that he was jealous of Tom, who was not even corporeal, but Tom shared a deep connection with Atlanta through their magics and it unnerved Regulus.

"No."

"Honestly? How can he live in your head and not know?"

"He doesn't live in my head. He can see out my eyes, but he just feels my emotions. Half the time he doesn't understand what he's feeling anyways," Atlanta grumbled, rolling her eyes. "He seems to lack all proper emotions. But, no, I haven't told him. I don't need to. He's just Tom the Riddler— the odd magical ghost thing that sometimes hangs out in my arm."

Regulus snorted. Atlanta shifted around for a moment before folding her arms across her chest.

"Regulus, when the time comes, will you stand up to her? Your mother?"

Neither voiced the answer. They both knew.

Regulus was a pleaser, the term Atlanta favored. He wanted everyone happy, he wanted everyone to get along, he wanted to be liked and he wanted to make peace in his turbulent family.

Regulus would give in to evade an argument and to avoid a fight. He would fold to save the family honor.

Once again, he was reminded he was not Sirius.

He wasn't brave, he was a coward.

This was why he allowed his fellow housemates to pick on him, allowed his brother's friends to mock and bully him. He wanted to be invisible, but he would never be due to the fact he was a Black.

He stood proud and straight.

In recent months, he tried to be brave, trying to stand up for himself and speak instead of being silent, act instead of giving in. But, his mother was another story. At the end of the day, he would do as his mother asked. Even if it meant shattering himself into a million tiny pieces.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't a Black," Regulus admitted. "If I wasn't…even if I wasn't the heir, things would be a bit easier. That's why I'm so mad at Sirius. While I understand why he left, he acted rashly and without thinking about anyone except himself. He left me alone in that house. He thinks he knows me, but he doesn't."

"I'm not Sirius. I do know you."

"You look serious."

She threw a broken Fanged Frisbee at him.

"But, in all seriousness, I know you're not Sirius. That's not the point. You don't know what it's like in that house. What it is _really_ like…the pressure my mother puts on me. You don't know what it was like growing up in that atmosphere either. Even if you had two werewolves for parents, you grew up in a loving, caring environment."

"I didn't grow up with the werewolves. I grew up…I was the third daughter of Altair Black."

Regulus gasped. "What? I've met him. He only has two children."

"I haven't been born yet, Reggie."

Regulus nodded, chiding himself for forgetting she was from the future. "But…Circe Hilderbatch isn't a— you're adopted?"

Atlanta shook her head. "No. Altair has or had a sister. Siria Black. She's my mother. She's a werewolf. She's been disinherited. And I never met her. Um…Siria came to Circe when she found out she was pregnant and they hatched a plan for Circe to pass me off as her own kid with Altair. I found out about this plan when Circe was killed a few months after I turned seventeen. I had figured it out before then, but she left a note for me in her will that stated it out in black and white. Your so called disinherited dead aunt is your mother, while the guy who used to tutor you when you were a child is your father."

"I always felt this odd connection to him even before I knew he was my father. So, when he was, er, fired I kept in contact with him. We were rather…close. Before I even found out."

"How…how did you figure it out? You said you knew before your mother told you after she died."

"Your brother figured it out," Atlanta admitted, laughing uncomfortably. "Long story short, your brother kept staring at me and finally burst, shouting I was Remus' kid and why didn't he see it. Remus claimed Sirius was batty."

"Sirius is batty."

"Yeah, after thirteen years in Azkaban, he would be."

"So, Remus Lupin is your father?"

Atlanta nodded. "Yeah. How weird is that?"

"I think that is the strangest thing you've admitted to me since you told me Lily Evans will marry James Potter," Regulus admitted. "Wait, how can Remus be your father. I thought he was gay."

"Er, he likes your brother best of all, but he's not gay. I guess he's a bisexual. Likes both," Atlanta said somewhat sheepishly. "Can we not talk about that?"

Regulus nodded. "All right. So…"

"Daddy was a lot like your mother," Atlanta said, going back to the original topic of conversation. "He was really into the whole pureblood thing and the Dark Arts. I've been exposed to things much darker than even you. Altair Black takes his pureblood pride seriously. More so than most pureblood American families."

"Yes, I can see that. You have a lot of the…breeding of most purebloods I know. But you had Remus," Regulus pointed out, suddenly realizing where the oddities in her behavior steamed from. "I see how you two are right now, even though he's not known you for long. And while I get the feeling it is natural for him to be a mother hen, it's clear that you two have a great relationship and he cares."

Atlanta nodded. "You don't think it's a bit creepy I'm hanging around my birth father when he's my own age?"

Regulus shrugged. "Not really. Any stranger than being forced to marry your cousin?"

"You don't have a direct cousin to marry," Atlanta pointed out.

Regulus nodded. "True. There's no close cousin anywhere near my own age to marry. Thank god."

"She's going to marry you off soon, huh?"

He didn't want to think about that right now.

Regulus sunk down a bit further till he was very improperly seated in the chair. His mother would never allow him to sit as slouched as he currently was sitting. It actually felt rather unnatural. A small part of him wanted to sit up properly. He could see the ugly face his mother would be making if she saw him right now.

"She's working to arrange a marriage," Regulus muttered.

Atlanta snorted. "How archaic. This whole British pureblood society is so backwards. It's like looking at Russia in the Muggle world. They are so backwards they're seriously in danger of time travel."

"I don't know much about Russia. Wizarding or Muggle," Regulus admitted.

"I know! None of you know anything about the world outside your tiny little bubble. You're Bubble People!"

Atlanta broke out into peals of laughter. She began to make a circle around her head, which only made her laugh harder.

"Bubble People?" Regulus asked, sitting up properly suddenly. "You think we live in a Bubble?"

Atlanta nodded, sobering up quickly as she banished the image of Bubble People from her head. "Totally. Think about it. I know that this whole war that is going to break out at any moment will be contained to Britain alone. It won't spread like the last one, as it doesn't have a Muggle World War behind it. But mostly, because it's in this wizarding society, it'll remain here. And won't spread. Voldemort is driven to be as pureblood as he can, and British purebloods never bother to look at the wider world in the least. They don't even pay any attention to the British Muggle world."

"How did we get on this topic again? I thought we were talking about how weak I am and how you're some sort of…unique being."

"I just have better smell and hearing than the average human. Oh, and I'm kind of stronger than the normal female. Oh, and I'm an Animagus and turn into a little black lab. I say little because I look like the runt of the litter."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. Sirius actually taught me. The summer he was locked away prisoner at Grimmauld Place. I caught on quickly, even though I was only fifteen. Sirius and Remus both thought it was due to my…werewolf blood it was easy to morph into a dog."

Regulus stared at her. "Amazing."

"I'm kind of illegal."

"I don't care. Wait, my brother is an Animagus?"

"Oops."

"Addy! How long has he been one?"

"Since, er, fifth year? Maybe?"

"Any thing else you'd like to share?"

"I'm heavily glamoured to hide my Lupin features. I think that is the last bombshell I've go up my sleeve."

She looked at him a bit sheepishly.

"What do you look like?"

"Me? I'm so used to looking at myself this way, I don't know what I look like under the glamour."

She looked a bit unsure suddenly. She patted her hair a few times, staring at the ends.

"I have natural wavy, black hair. My eyes are amber, like Remus'. My nose is different and my face is shaped a bit differently…I don't remember."

She seemed shocked she failed to remember what she really looked like. Regulus did not honestly care what she looked like under the glamours. He stood up and jumped over the coffee table, landing on the couch next to her. He swiftly grabbed her, catching her face in both his hands.

"Ooof, Reggie, what are you doing?"

His long, pale fingers stood out on her slightly darker skin. She stopped moving and met his eyes. He looked into the grey-green depths and felt himself smiling.

"You're amazing because you're simply you and you're not afraid to admit it. You march to your own drum and I hope one day, someday…I will be able to do the same thing."

"You can start now," she said softly.

Cocking an eyebrow in a move he'd seen his brother do a million times, Regulus said, "Maybe I will."

Their faces were close together. He could feel her body heat and her smell surrounded him. He loved how she smelled. She smelled like a garden. All the light fragrance flowers mixed together to create her unique scent. Her lips parted a bit and her eyes went a bit wider.

"You smell like Christmas," she said faintly.

"Is that good?"

She leaned in closer and sniffed him.

"And kind of like…dust after the rain," she went on.

She looked utterly dizzy. Regulus felt her hand, still somewhat cold, grip his back. The other one came up and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

"Christmas and dust?"

"It makes sense to me," she mumbled.

"You always smell like lightly fragranced garden. Orchids, violets, calla lilies, orange blossoms," Regulus informed her. "And something else I've never been able to place."

Atlanta made a humming noise in the throat.

"Would you mind terribly if I kissed you right now?" Regulus heard himself ask.

"No."

Closing the small bit of space between their lips, Regulus felt like he'd never be able to top what he felt in that moment, pressing his lips to hers.

After a somewhat chaste kiss he pulled apart from her, moving his hands from her face and into her hair. They locked eyes again.

The words caught in his mouth. Somehow, he understood they did not need words. Actions spoke louder than words.

He lowered his mouth again to hers and kissed her again. This time the kiss was anything but chaste.


	15. Mental Notes Love Rocks Seriously

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I fail to own it.**

* * *

**_Mental Notes Lock Rocks. Seriously_**

* * *

At the same moment his younger brother was snogging the love of his life for the first time on the other side of the castle, Sirius Black's head was in Remus Lupin's lap and he, Remus Lupin, was babbling about rocks.

Sirius had started the conversation, not actually being serious. Well, he was Sirius. He was ALWAYS Sirius. No matter how he tried not to be. But, he wasn't serious when he started talking about rocks. He was struggling under the influence of Gillyweed (smoked, not eaten). It was almost impossible to get a coherent thought together in order to get his point across.

Celebrating James' seventeenth birthday had seemed like a brilliant thing to produce his huge supply of dried Gillyweed he'd stolen out of the stocks over the years, but now he almost wished he'd not smoked so much. If he hadn't gotten so high, he'd be able to pay attention to all the random thoughts a sober Remus Lupin was now discussing.

It was very important. Sirius knew this as much as he knew he was always going to be Sirius.

Seriously.

For the first time in six years, Sirius had managed to get Remus to voice all the thoughts he was having in his head those times when he fell silent and put on Think Face.

Only, Remus was carding his long fingers through Sirius' hair and it was so distracting. It felt good. Like more good than Sirius had ever imagined. Remus had strong fingers (side effect of being a werewolf) and blunt nails. Girls had weak fingers and nails. Sirius always thought he liked nails, but now that he had Remus' fingers in his hair, scratching him behind the ear he no longer liked nails.

Or maybe he just liked Remus and his fingers?

No, no. Not that way. Sirius just liked the fingers. If he could detach them from Remus, he'd still like them.

NO!

Then they wouldn't work. They had to be attached to Remus.

He liked Remus and his fingers.

Rocks. Sirius needed to talk about rocks. He'd brought it up. He should say something witty. Charming. Something good.

"Rocks," Sirius announced. "They are hard, cold and not alive. You can't get them to talk. Like you. You're a rock."

That was stupid.

"I am talking right now, Sirius," Remus said. "Have been for quite some time."

_Mental note: Do not get high if you want to have intelligent conversations._

_Another mental note: Do not get high if you want to search your heart for your true feelings. All you will hear is Atlanta telling Regulus you're in love with Remus. You are not in love with Remus._

_Mental note: Stop making mental notes with yourself. _

"You think too much. Atlanta thinks the same way you do. Only she talks. I think Regulus loves her," Sirius babbled. "I make mental notes in my head."

He rolled onto his back so he could look up at Remus. They were seated on the roof. They had been stargazing, but at some point they stopped.

_Mental note: Do more stargazing._

Sirius needed a quill to write these brilliant mental notes down.

James and Peter went away. Not that Sirius minded. He gazed up at Remus, into the honey colored eyes. Only, they were dark tonight, as it was dark outside. Sirius couldn't make out the array of colors that lived in those strange colored eyes.

"He gets this sort of dopy look about him."

"He does love her," Remus said, his hand falling to his side.

Sirius grabbed Remus' hand and stuck it in his hair again. "How can you tell?"

Remus shrugged, tangling his fingers in Sirius's hair. It felt so good.

_Mental note: Have Remus give head rubs more often._

That sounded wrong.

"Tell me."

"I'm not sure exactly. It is clear he cares deeply for her. He's changed this past year. He smiles and he stood up for himself a few times."

"So he doesn't need a protector?"

"No. I think Regulus is always going to need a protector till he realizes he can be brave," Remus admitted.

"Brave? Are you saying he's not brave?"

Sirius was mad at Remus now. His brother was brave. He as a Black!

_Mental Note: Explain what being a Black means to Remus at a later date._

"I think he has the capacity to be brave. He doesn't realize it, though," Remus admitted. "I don't think he ever thought he'd fall in love. He seemed surprised."

"You talk a like a girl," Sirius giggled.

Remus let out a painful sigh, his hand dropping from Sirius's head. Sirius reached back and tried to find Remus' hand.

"I don't speak like a girl. I speak intelligently. Unlike someone else here," Remus snapped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean it in a bad way. Girls say smart things," Sirius said, rolling over to find Remus' missing hand. "Where is your hand?"

"Attached to my arm," Remus supplied.

Sirius gave up and landed face first in Remus's lap. "I want your hand."

Remus slapped Sirius on the back of the head, then picked him up by his hair. It hurt, but for some reason Sirius couldn't make himself care.

"I don't need your face in my lap."

"I need your hand."

"You have two of your own."

"But they're not your hands. I like your hands," Sirius whined. "I like your hands a lot. They are man hands. I like man hands."

Remus made a noise through his nose and rolled his eyes. Pushing Sirius off, Remus stood up and brushed himself off. Sirius crumbled into a heap on the roof. It was not comfortable. There were rocks. Little, annoying rocks.

"Let's go inside. I should check on James and Peter," Remus said, looking towards the open window they'd crawled out earlier.

"I don't wanna. It's no fair. Your stupid werewolf metabolism," Sirius muttered, rolling onto his back and staring at the inky sky above his head. He noticed, rather sappily, he missed having Remus under him and nearby.

Remus didn't answer, but crawled back into the classroom they'd used for their impromptu to party. A minute later, Remus crawled back out and sat down next to Sirius' head.

"They are out cold," Remus announced. "There is no way I am carrying those two back to the dormitory."

Remus crossed his arms and pouted. Sirius found it highly enduring. He reached up and flicked Remus's bottom lip. Remus glared down at him for a moment before giving up and dragging Sirius to him and plopping Sirius' head into his lap.

Sirius grinned.

The hands began to card through Sirius's hair again. Sirius wanted to talk, wanted to crawl inside the ever thinking, ever working head of Remus John Lupin, but his train of thought escaped him and he wound up thinking about love.

"How do you fall in love?" Sirius asked.

"No clue."

"I thought you had all the answers."

"No. Tragically, I do not."

"How did you know Regulus fell in love?"

"It was in his eyes one night when I was working with Addy in the library. It was a very mundane moment and I happened to glance over at him and saw his eyes. His eyes had a sparkle to them. He also goes off like a light bulb when she sits down next to him."

"Does she love him?"

"Yes."

"Jealous?"

"Of Reggie? No."

"You two call her Addy. Why?"

"I don't know. I thought Lanta was somewhat silly. One day…I was staring at her name as she'd written it out on her essay. I asked her if she ever went by AD, to which she said no. She said someone she used to know used to call her Addy, though. I liked it."

"Oh. She got mad at me when I called her that. Reggie calls her that, though. Are you jealous?"

"Of Reggie, no. I don't like her that way."

"Me either. She's not— "

Sirius came to a halt. His heart sped up, his stomach dropped and the nerves in his feet tingled. He blinked a few times, almost clearing the foggy high he'd been working for the past hour away. Suddenly, things were crystal clear, perfect.

Sirius was in fact in love with Remus Lupin.

He was a poofer.

Just like Atlanta had said.

He had almost about told Remus the reason he didn't like Atlanta and wasn't jealous of his brother was due to the fact he was in love with Remus John Lupin.

When had this happened?

"She's not who? Who is the lucky lady Sirius Black currently has a massive fixation on?" Remus asked, keeping his voice light.

Sirius didn't answer.

"Sirius?"

Sirius still did not answer, panic welling through him. He began to go over the last six years of his life and realized something major: Sirius Orion Black had always been in love with Remus John Lupin.

Sirius had simply failed to notice.

_Mental Note: Notice when you've been in love with your best friend for the last six years give or take. Plonker._

Who did he go to when he had a bad dream?

Remus.

Who did he bother when he was unable to get to sleep at night?

Remus.

Who did he let see sides of him that he'd never allow anyone else to see?

Remus.

Why did he feel so damn unfulfilled kissing girls?

Because they failed to be Remus.

Sirius glanced at Remus' lips and felt heat rise in his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Suddenly, the reason he didn't understand James' obsession with Lily Evans made sense. Sirius had never understood why James went after the girl like he did. Never did Sirius understand why James moaned he loved Evans. Sirius didn't get why James turned to a pile of mush in the girl's presence.

James loved Lily, only she was Evans so she yelled a lot.

Was Sirius Black broken? He couldn't be in love with his best friend. That…that wasn't….no.

He needed more information on this love thing.

OH! Reggie!

Regulus had a different sort of relationship with Atlanta. Atlanta didn't all out hate him. Atlanta never hexed Regulus either when he spoke to her like Evans tended to do with James. Regulus fell in love with Atlanta and there was none of the childishness, none of the yelling, but he did seem to turn to a pile of mush sometimes in front of Atlanta. Sirius had noticed that dopy look about his brother.

Sirius heard Remus sigh and his head hit the wall behind them. Sirius was in the mists of trying to remember all his previous mental notes when he noticed Remus' breathing deepened. He'd fallen asleep sitting up, leaning against the side of the castle on the roof. Sirius shifted himself a bit.

He stared at Remus in the darkness, the only light coming from the lit classroom windows on either side of them.

Yup.

He was in love with Remus Lupin. Sirius was defiantly feeling slightly mush like. And it wasn't because Atlanta Dorothy Black had put idea into his head. He'd come to the conclusion without thinking about anything she'd said. Okay, he thought about it a little. But any of those times she'd made those odd remarks about the fact Remus was not in love with Sirius had not been the reasoning for him falling in love with Remus. Nor did her comments that he was in love with Remus and failed to know it.

The first few months he'd heard these comments, he'd been upset, mad even. Not any more.

He knew now.

Sirius liked Remus.

No. Sirius loved Remus.

A lot.

_Mental note: Talk more about rocks tomorrow. Seriously. _


	16. Dark Lord Smurf

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 22 June 2013_

* * *

**_Dark Lord Smurf_**

* * *

Dread.

That was the only feeling Regulus could really identify.

Dread.

Walburga Black sat tall and proud at the head of the dinning room table, regarding Regulus with what looked like disdain. Since he'd returned home from school, the house had been quiet. With Sirius gone, there were no more fights, no more arguments, no more bangs, curses or crashes.

It was too quiet.

That should have tipped Regulus off.

The distain was the second clue his life was over.

She knew. Regulus had no idea how, but his mother knew. Exactly what she knew, Regulus was not sure, but she did not approve of whatever she knew.

The third and final clue that the life of Regulus Black was forfeit?

Bellatrix was coming over to take Regulus out for his birthday. That could only mean one thing.

"You will join," Walburga announced, her piercing grey gaze, so unlike his brother's even if they shared the same colored eyes, slicing through him. "It will honor the family to have one of our own in the Dark Lord's ranks. His goals are our own. Correct, Orion?"

"Correct as usual," his father said from the other end of the table. His voice lacked any emotions, any feeling. He almost sounded mocking.

"I am," Walburga insisted, glancing at her husband in scorn.

Regulus frowned. He felt as if he'd missed something important during his panic after his mother announced Bellatrix was on her way to take him out. Bellatrix would only take him to one place. She'd promised so much after Christmas.

"I'm too young," Regulus tried. "I'm only fifteen."

"You are sixteen today. And old enough to join the ranks to keep the Dark Lord apprised on the goings on within the school. Narcissa has graduated, along with her fellow seventh years in his ranks. So, there is a need for trusted individuals to keep the Dark Lord apprised."

Cold dread filled Regulus' stomach. It curdled and took up residence.

"You must honor the family," his mother insisted in a loaded tone. "After the dishonor we've had at the hands of that….abomination."

His mother hissed, while he father remained stoney.

"We must get you back on track," his mother went on. She pulled a piece of parchment, a look of disgust on her face. "Narcissa wrote me to me all school year, insisting you were consorting with that American still."

Walburga spit out the world "American" as if she'd spoken "Mudblood" or "Half-breed." Regulus felt his blood run cold. He'd be frozen soon. Frozen and dead.

"It is distasteful and you clearly did not stop when I told you to cease your association with a dirty American. I do not care if she's a Black, she is not of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She will never be part of my house."

If she could, his mother would murder him with her eyes.

She knew. She knew he'd fallen in love with Atlanta. And her answer was to throw him to the Dark Lord.

Regulus struggled to remain upright and tall in his chair. If he were Sirius, he'd be shouting, yelling and defending Atlanta. Regulus was not Sirius, so he allowed his mother's tirade to go on a bit longer, her words more degrading by the minute. Regulus felt sick with himself, his situation, his family.

Mostly himself. He was mute while his mother bad mouthed the woman he loved.

His heart warmed a bit as he thought about Atlanta. She was in Edinburgh working with the Spellsmiths there, toiling to be able to obtain her Mastery in the profession a year out of school. It did not surprise Regulus. She was wise beyond her years, even if others took it as a sign of insanity. They weren't privy to her back history, did not know her fully story.

Regulus would see Atlanta tomorrow. She had been unable to come down to London today.

Not that it mattered. His life was ending tonight.

"Bella will be along shortly and you will go with her to meet the Dark Lord," Walburga went on, tossing the parchment aside. "You will join his ranks and bring us honor. You will make us proud. A member of our house within the inner circle of the Dark Lord will serve the House well."

His father snorted his agreement, though Regulus felt that his father didn't fully agree. Regulus' cowardliness and weakness clearly came from his father, while Sirius' will to do whatever came from his mother. Not that Sirius felt the need to force his views onto others in the manner their mother chose.

"But, I'm sixteen," Regulus repeated.

"It is time to grow up," his mother snapped. "You are the heir. The future head of the house of my Fathers."

Regulus gulped. A spiral of hate spun in his stomach towards his brother, who had left him alone in the house. All his mother's need to suppress and force was now upon Regulus.

"Make us proud, Regulus. That is all I'm asking. Bring back the pride we've lost thanks to your so called brother," she said, spitting out the world "brother" with disgust. "Make us proud."

The last statement felt like a knife to his heart. He wanted to make his family proud. He wanted to bring them honor and pride. He wanted to bring the family greatness and make his parents proud of him. He wanted to be able to stand up tall and not have people snickering behind his back thanks to his brother. Even with Atlanta at his side, he still felt like he had a target on his head.

He had to meet great expectations. He was all the Black family had left, as Sirius had turned away.

Regulus swallowed thickly and nodded his consent. Somewhere, far up north, Atlanta was going about her life, not knowing Regulus could feel a bit of his soul die as every second ticked by.

"That's a good boy, Regulus," his mother cooed in a very soft voice. She gave him a smile, though it was without much feeling and looked strange. Walburga didn't smile often.

In another room, the fire roared loudly and they heard Bellatrix calling out.

"Hello? Auntie, Uncle? Cousin Regs?"

He hated being called _Regs_.

"We're in here, Bella darling," his mother called out, her voice suddenly dripping with sweetness. It made Regulus' skin crawl.

Bellatrix Lastrange appeared in the doorway, dressed in her best robes and her black hair swept up to show off her haunting features. Her heavy lidded eyes were bright with excitement as she took in the gathering of the Black family.

"I take it the family meeting went well?" she asked, taking the seat across from Regulus. She beamed at him, a slight hint of crazy in her dark eyes.

"It did. He's seen the error of his ways and has agreed to make the family proud."

"Wonderful," Bellatrix cooed in a sicking voice. "The Dark Lord is very excited to meet you, Regs."

Regulus steeled himself. He needed to be brave, needed to stand tall and put his pureblood training into effect. Clearing his mind, he pulled out his most practice, cold smile.

The Little Prince was back.

"I'm looking forward to it," he said smoothly, elegantly.

It felt like slipping back into a pair of trousers he'd long forgotten about. They still fit somewhat uneasily, but it was a pair he knew he'd be able to wear for a while till he could find his favorite pair. His act fooled all three people in the room. His father's eye brow twitched a bit, his mother looked even more thrilled and Bellatrix looked like she was going to burst from being excited that Regulus had finally come back to the Dark Side.

He hadn't really left, only meandered over into the other side; only entertained for a few moments of not going Jedi. As Atlanta would have said.

Atlanta did seem to use terms from that one Muggle movie often when discussing the Dark Arts. She said it fit wonderfully for the situation. Granted, Regulus had no clue what she was talking about. He'd never understood her explanation of Siths and Jedis. Made about as much sense as Klingons, Romulans and Borgs.

Another bit of him died as he realized he was never going to figure it out.

Could he really do this? Turn his back to Atlanta, who would not want anything to do with him once he was part of the Dark Lord's movement?

His famiily's values: keeping the blood pure. That was what the Dark Lord preached. That was what his family believed, the Dark Lord believed.

Did Regulus?

No. He hadn't for a long time. The woman he loved with wasn't pureblood. She wasn't even a half blood or half breed. She was something all together new. Unique.

The Dark Lord would kill her on sight if he ever met her.

Regulus was sixteen and scared. He did not know what to do, could not see a way to get out of this situation alive.

Still wearing his blank smile, he noticed Bellatrix standing. "We must get going, Regulus. The Dark Lord wishes to meet with you tonight. I'm to bring you to him. Are you ready?"

No. He was not ready. He wanted to scream like a girl and run away.

He did not do this, though. He slowly looked to his mother, who nodded. Rising, Regulus pushed his chair in and followed after his cousin, walking to his death. Bellatrix walked out the front door and down the stairs to the square. It was dark, so Regulus doubted the Muggles would notice them. She grabbed his arm and didn't ask for his permission before she twisted on the spot, sucking Regulus into nothingness.

He appeared again, feeling sick to his stomach outside the grounds to the Lastrange Manor. Without a word, Bellatrix jerked Regulus and all but dragged him into the house. She dropped his arm in the entrance and handed him dark black robes. She herself donned a pair and a white mask. Throwing her hood up, she glanced over at Regulus.

"Wear those. The Dark Lord will give you a mask and your mark tonight," she screeched, sounding like a giddy teenager going to see her favorite pop star perform. Clever girls turned into simpering, screaming idiots at the mere mention of a name. Bellatrix's obsession with the Dark Lord was akin to Muggle's girls obsession with pop stars.

Odd how something so not Muggle could be described with a phenomenon that only happened in the Muggle world. There were no pop stars in the wizaridng world.

Regulus took the robes and slouched out of his other robes. These robes felt rough, not like the ones he'd just taken off. He bit down a sigh and a scream and followed Bellatrix back outside. She grabbed his arm again without asking and twisted yet again.

They popped into a forest somewhere. He could hear the howls of the animals and the low murmur of voices in a clearing ahead of them. Still holding Regulus's arm in a death grip, Bellatrix dragged him forward.

"I have him, Master," Bellatrix breathed, breaking through the circle gathered around a tall, thin man.

The man slowly turned around, his black robes swirling around him. He wore a hooded black cloak so Regulus couldn't make out his face. Everyone else in the clearing all wore the same robes Regulus had been given. He was approached by a man without a face while everyone else looked the same except for shape and height. Each factor to identify was too vague to give identities.

"Ah, Master Black," the man said, in a cold, high voice. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. I've heard so much about how great your family is and how strongly they believe in my cause."

Regulus nodded. Bellatrix shoved him froward into the center of the circle. Regulus, like a child, stumbled on the hem of the robes. They were much too long for him. He decided to go with the stumble and crashed to his knees in front of the man he assumed was the Dark Lord. Keeping all his emotions in check and hidden, Regulus managed not to throw up at the man's feet.

"Yes, my Lord," Regulus succeeded in getting out of his mouth.

"Ah, you are scared," the man said, not surprised. "There is no need for that, my boy. Please stand up."

Regulus slowly got to his feet, trying to hold himself proudly and with honor. Squaring his shoulders, he stood straight, but kept his eyes trained on a spot behind the man in front of him.

"Now, Bellatrix tells me you've always been a good boy and held strong with pureblood beliefs. You do not like Muggles at all?"

"No, my Lord."

"Mudbloods?"

"Are disgusting," he answered automatically.

"Blood traitors?"

"Should be wiped out."

"Like your brother?"

"I hate my brother," Regulus spit out.

That much was true. He did have hate for his brother. It was his brother's fault he was in this situation. It as his brother's fault Atlanta had begun to hang out with the Marauders more often after that stupid stunt Sirius pulled with Snape. It was his brother's fault for pushing his mother to the point she locked him in the cellar, in the dark. It was Sirius' fault he was so different and refused to just blend in.

It was Sirius' fault. Everything was Sirius' fault.

"Good, good. That is very true," the Dark Lord said, almost sounding amused. "Now, while Bella wasn't too happy about this, I have heard you are quite close a child named Atlanta Black who has been studying at Hogwarts."

Regulus felt his blood freeze. His heart stopped beating.

"I'm told by my source she's rather…talented."

Several people hissed behind Regulus.

"Ah, ah, ah. None of that. While I know you hold Americans in distain, they are still purebloods and wizards. Their society has the same faults that ours has. In order to start our new world, we will need all the pureblood support we can munster. You do not believe we can change wizarding society with just the few pure families left in Britain? No, we need international support. And Regulus has brought us a clear link to America. And the Black Family."

Regulus was sure he'd stopped breathing. He'd turn blue. Into a Smurf.

A giggle of laughter attempted to escape as Regulus pictured the Dark Lord as a Smurf. It was too insane not to picture at this moment.

"She's a blood traitor, Master," Bellatrix announced. "She associates with Mudbloods and knows a lot about the Muggle world. And she's friends with….blood traitors. She has no connection to the pureblood Blacks! She is likely a halfblood!"

Smurfs. Those weird blue things….cartoons. Regulus enjoyed cartoons. Atlanta drew them for him so he'd know what she was talking about. He enjoyed the amusing drawings. She had drawn a Smurf for him after something in Herbology had reminded her of the little blue things.

She'd be laughing now if she could see what Regulus was picturing. Himself and the Dark Lord as Smurfs.

It was getting rather hard not to laugh.

"Faults, for sure, Bella. We can over look her blood status. I have for many of you. She's the only connection to the Americans we have at the moment. Do any of you know any of the pureblood houses in America?"

Silence.

"I know for a fact the Black Family in America holds my beliefs same as you do. Altair Black is a supporter, but his father refuses to allow him to join us. But, we need an ambassador. Someone who can pave the way for us. We're seen as a terrorist group by the mainstream here," the Dark Lord explained.

Regulus could feel the Dark Lord's eyes on him, as he was still trying to control his out of place need to laugh, loudly. That was something Sirius did, laugh at the wrong moments instead of scream.

"We need this…Atlanta Black on our side."

There was a strange tone in the Dark Lord's voice as he said her name.

"While I know she's currently an orphan, if she wanted, she could make inroads with the current, high ranking members of her family, could she not? I know they'd value a powerful relative such as her. I have not seen such power since my sister."

Regulus was on the verge of hyperventilating. He wanted to scream, cry and laugh all at once. He nodded, as he was afraid to speak. If he opened his mouth, he really more than likely laugh. He tried to banish all thoughts of Smurfs from his head. He needed to concentrate on his current predicament.

Regulus, while weak willed and scared, was not stupid. He knew Atlanta would never join the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would not be able to manipulate Atlanta, blackmail her or anything in order for her to join his cause and work for him.

She would rather die than join Voldemort.

Just like Sirius.

Atlanta was a lot like Sirius. Much more than Regulus cared to admit.

The thought sobered him up.

Wait, has the Dark Lord said he had a sister?

"I have been told that Miss Black is a horrible potion maker, but a master at Charms. A future Spellsmith, correct, Master Black?" the Dark Lord asked, fingering his long, slim wand. Regulus looked into the face of the Dark Lord. He couldn't make out anything, as the hood cast his entire face into the shadows.

Regulus nodded. "She is doing an apprenticeship this summer with the Spellsmiths."

"Wonderful, wonderful," the Dark Lord murmured. "Regulus you will make it your goal to pursued Miss Black to join us. We need her skills, her connections. Her power."

Regulus felt himself nod, a cold shiver running through him. There was something oddly familiar when the Dark Lord spoke about power.

He felt the Dark Lord circle close so he could speak in Regulus' ear.

"You love her, do you not?"

Regulus stopped breathing. Could the Dark Lord read minds? How did he know?

Oh, no. He'd find out the Smurf.

"You do. You are worthy of her attention, being who you are. You best make her see right," the Dark Lord whispered. He didn't even need to threatened what would happen if Regulus failed.

The Dark Lord straightened up. Regulus struggled not to fall over. The Dark Lord came to stand in front of Regulus, tossing his wand back and forth in his hands. He had unnatural long, white fingers.

Not very Smurf-like.

_Stop thinking about damn Smurfs_, Regulus chided himself.

"It's your birthday, today, is it not?"

"It is, my Lord."

"Well, let's give you a present," the Dark Lord said, his ghostly white hand darting out.

The hand hooked around Regulus' left arm. Using his wand the Dark Lord pushed the sleeve back to reveal Regulus' forearm. Regulus chanced it and glanced up into the face of the Dark Lord. It was a sicking sight. The Dark Lord did not look human. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was almost flat. The skin across his face was stretched tightly, blurring what were once handsome features. His skin was unnaturally white, like paint in a can. The red bloodshot eyes were trained on Regulus and met his grey-blue ones. There was no emotion in those red eyes at all. They were fathomless pits of doom.

"Happy birthday, Master Black," the man hissed, an evil smile on his lips.

The wand tip pressed into Regulus' skin and the burning began. At first it wasn't too bad, but soon the pain was so great, Regulus felt his knees buckle and a scream rip out of his mouth. Pain was all he could feel— it swallowed him whole until suddenly it was gone. He was left panting on the grass on all fours.

"Stand, Master Black."

Without hesitation, Regulus stood up.

He must obey Lord Smurf.

Regulus didn't even want to look at his arm. It burned like it was glowing, letting the world see it through the sleeve covering his arm what had just happened.

"Please, let us welcome Master Black to our ranks," the Dark Lord said, extending a white mask to Regulus. He took it and slipped it on. "Bring forth the entertainment."

Unsure what to do, Regulus remained where he was till he noticed the Dark Lord indicating to him to join the circle. He walked over to the edge of the circle and stood between two tall figures.

"I'm glad you've seen the light."

Regulus tensed for a moment. He knew that voice. He slowly looked up and saw a sneer on the lips of the person next to him. The sneer was familiar.

Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa's boyfriend, soon to be fiance.

"Yes," Regulus replied as he heard screams begin.

He stared to the center of the circle now to see a few Muggles being unceremoniously dumped in the middle.

Once again, it was amazing Regulus did not throw up. Instead he focused on Dark Lord Smurf, whose white wand was actually a Sugar Quill and spit out words written in sugar.


	17. Sorta Like a Fairytale

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I still fail to own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_Sorta Like a Fairytale_**

* * *

If someone had told Regulus he'd be scared of his left forearm someday, he would have laughed. Now, his whole mind was consumed with an ache that had nothing to do with the residual pain of the Dark Mark etched onto his forearm.

His mother had been waiting up for him last night and cooed over the Dark Mark scarring his arm.

His father had been nowhere to be seen.

Regulus was disgusted with himself. In the light of day, it was uglier. The skull and snake image caused his stomach to roll, his skin to crawl and his heart to crack into a million pieces.

In the light of day, Regulus knew what he should have said. He knew what he ought to have done. He had been up most of the night wondering if he had said this or that, done this or that, reacted this way or that way would he been lying in his bed without his left arm scaring the crap out of him.

Letting his sleeve drop, Regulus buttoned the cuff. Glamours didn't work on the Dark Mark. He'd tried. When it didn't work, he had tried to float the image of Dark Lord Smurf over the tattoo, but it failed as well. He was cursed with long sleeves for the rest of his life. Turning his arm over, he made sure the mark wasn't visible under his white dress shirt. Once he was satisfied the mark wasn't visible, he left his bedroom.

Regulus was meeting Atlanta today to celebrate his birthday. She seemed to believe celebrating sixteen was a big deal. She called it Sweet Sixteen and told him all about the rather large party her family had thrown her. Her only disappointment was that no one had given her a car. Evidently in America Muggle teenagers at age sixteen got transportation.

Regulus wanted to crawl into a hole and die rather than celebrate the fact he was sixteen. Regret was not something he dealt with very well. He tended to ignore it, like he did most emotions.

"Regulus."

Pausing on the stairs, Regulus turned to find his father standing in the door to his study. The expression on the old man's face bid Regulus to follow his father into the room. Taking a deep breath, Regulus left the stairs and headed for the study. Upon entering, he quietly closed the heavy door behind him. Turning to face his father, he was rather shocked to see disappointment and regret in his father's usually blank, expressionless grey eyes.

"You are meeting Miss Black today, correct?"

Regulus didn't bother to contradict the statement or ask how his father knew this information. He simply nodded.

"I will inform your mother you've been called," Orion Black said, his low, deep voice heavy with emotion Regulus could not place.

"Yes, sir," Regulus answered.

His father sat down heavily in the leather chair behind the stately desk. He rested his folded hands on the desk, pinning his youngest son with his stormy eyes.

"I had hoped to spare you from him," Orion Black informed his son. "I know who he really is. What he preaches and claims are lies, Regulus. It is a tragedy your mother failed to see through his lies and deceit. Even when we were at school."

Regulus blinked.

"Once he finds out I know who he really is, I won't be long for this world. I've been keeping track of those who knew him…knew who he really was," his father went on, taking his eyes off his youngest. "They all end up dead. I'm still amazed I have lasted this long, but I fear it's because I've retreated behind my insane wife, who clearly doesn't remember Tom Riddle."

Regulus gasped. "Tom Riddle?"

Orion Black looked back at his son, a look of question on his face. Regulus gripped the chair in front of him. His mind whirled around, trying to put together the handsome, somewhat standoffish boy would turn into the red-eyed, blurred-featured man he'd seen last night.

"You have heard of Tom Riddle?"

"Yes, Father."

His father looked worried, afraid even. "Do not allow him to know you know."

"Wait, Father…are you telling me, the Dark Lord is Tom Riddle?"

Regulus felt like he was going to suffocate. His arm throbbed.

"Yes, they are one and the same. Son, what do you know?"

The story spilled out of Regulus before he knew what he was doing. His father stared at him, slowly sitting back in his chair, the wood creaking loudly. When Regulus finished, his father looked grim, but not as worried as he had before.

"Where is he now?"

"With Addy— Atlanta," Regulus quickly corrected. "He cannot survive without her magic around him. He is tied to her because she was closet to the sketchbook when the accident occurred. Together they made a containment unit of sorts so he was able to stay in her room when she wanted privacy. Or Tom wanted to remain behind and not attend classes."

Orion Black thought this over. "He has not harmed you? Or her?"

Regulus shook his head in the negative.

"I don't think you have much to fear from this…Tom," his father concluded. "You say he is fifteen?" Regulus nodded. "It was when he was sixteen he became darker. I felt the shift in his magic that spring. He grew darker after the appearance of his half sister. Her disappearance after his sixth year lead him to grow even darker. He kept his facade of polite, charming, perfect Head Boy, but under that he was dark, emotionless…evil. I felt it. I was not fool and am not fooled now."

Orion Black stood up and turned his back to his son, clasping his large hands behind his back as he stared out the bay window.

"I am not sure what he's done to himself since he vanished. I do believe he'd so drowned in the Dark Arts they have eaten away any humanity that might have ever resided within. The Dark Arts are addictive and must be handled with care."

Regulus had never hard his father speak like this before. He spoke carefully, passionately.

"The best is to know a mixture of Dark and Light magic. To be fully emerged in either one leads to corruption of one's mind and body. It takes longer with Light than it does with Dark, but as you are fully aware, both forms of magic are destructive and dangerous. A lighting charm can blind a person if used correctly. And a blasting curse can be used to save a life, as much as it can be used to end one."

His father turned back to face Regulus.

"I do not believe if Tom Riddle's essence has spent this much time in the company of Atlanta Black he would be the same exact person he was when he arrived. Mixing magic makes a strong bond between people, almost stronger than blood bonds."

Regulus stared at his father, trying to figure out what his father was trying to tell him without actually telling him. So far, he understood he was not to trust the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was Tom Riddle, only drenched in Dark magic. He as emotionless and no longer human.

His father was concerned, worried for Regulus. He was scared. Orion Black, the tall, strong, larger than life man was exactly like Regulus. Both had been unable to stand up and be brave loudly, so they'd have to be brave quietly.

The light bulb went off over Regulus' head.

"I believe I know what you are saying, Father."

"Good. Now, the real reason I called you in here is to let you know, I never disinherited Sirius."

Regulus jerked backwards a bit. "Excuse me?"

"While your older brother is…rather reckless and sometimes a complete idiot, his beliefs are more attuned for the world I hope emerges after Tom Riddle is gone," his father informed him.

If someone had a feather, they could have knocked Regulus over at that moment.

"While your mother believes Sirius is a terrible heir, I could not hope for a better one. I am not saying you are horrible or not up for the job, but you, my son, have a different role to play for the family and the duties of heir are not in the cards for you."

Regulus was too stunned to speak right away. When he finally found his voice, he asked, "Why?"

"Why am I telling you now? Because, there is a mark on your forearm that will undoubtedly lead to your death," Orion Black said calmly. "While I wished this would not be the path your insane mother lead you down, you allowed her to lead you there."

Anger swelled within Regulus. "You did nothing to stop her."

"I did," his father admitted. "My efforts failed. She overrode me as she has on many occasions. I attempted to keep Sirius within this house. I attempted to prevent her from calling Bellatrix. She went over my head. She drove your brother from this house. Remember the events of that evening, will you?"

Grinding his back teeth, Regulus thought for a moment. The argument, the fighting, the things thrown…it had all been started by his mother.

"She knew what to say and what buttons to push to get him to reject our family and run away."

Orion Black nodded.

"And she didn't tell you Bellatrix was coming last night," Regulus realized.

"Your mother is mentally ill, driven by insanity. After I am gone, she will descend further into madness. I regret that more than likely neither one of us will be here to take care of her."

"Why?"

"We're not long for this world," Orion Black said. He looked over his shoulder. "She is here now. Put the heavy thoughts out of your mind. Take joy in the fact you are sixteen and young. There will be time later to dwell on what must be done to assure the future."

Confused, Regulus nodded at his father.

"And do not tell Atlanta of Tom's true nature. It will only taint their relationship," his father said. "Enjoy your day."

Regulus bowed and exited the study. Taking a moment to collect himself, Regulus steadied himself on the wall near a portrait of his great grandfather.

"He speaks the truth, Regulus," the portrait said. "I'm sure you're aware of the Seer blood us Blacks have on your father's side."

"Yes."

"Do as he says. He only wants what is best for the family."

"Yes, Great-Grandfather Sirius," Regulus breathed.

"You will understand someday, young man," the man said, sounding sad. "Dark times are ahead for the family. Out of all the currently living Blacks, only four of you are truly against the coming darkness."

Regulus glanced up at the portrait. He nodded and started for the stairs. As he reached the front door, he knew who those four people were.

His father, Sirius, Andromeda and himself. He turned his arm over and stared at his forearm. His stomach lurched, but for the first time since the ugly mark had been seared to his arm, Regulus felt no pain. He turned the doorknob and walked out into the sunlight.

It was hard not to run into her arms, to fling himself at her. He managed to keep his composure, only allowing a small smile to form on his face as he descended the stairs. He crossed the street and came to stand in front of her where she was waiting for him dressed in a yellow Muggle sundress.

She looked like sunshine and happiness in a human body.

"Sorry we couldn't do this yesterday," she apologized, grabbing his hand and weaving their fingers together.

At the contact, all thoughts other than Atlanta flew from his mind. He tugged her closer, wrapping his free arm around her waist.

"It's fine," he whispered in her ear. "Today's a much better day. The family celebration is over."

She chuckled.

"Well, you've got me all to yourself today. I left the Riddler back in my room in Edinburgh. He's working on the charm we're developing. I'm so lucky my mentor was cool with the whole…Tom thing."

Regulus nodded. He pulled back and smiled down at her. "Well, can the birthday boy get a kiss?"

"Right in front of your house?"

Her eyes went wide.

"Yes."

He dipped lower and captured her soft lips. The world melted away at the contact. He felt her drop his hand and her fingers weave through his hair. He drew her closer to him, pressing her right up against him as he lightly dragged his tongue across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth up for him and he wasted no time in darting his tongue in there so he could taste her, drown in her. If they didn't need to breathe, Regulus was sure they would never have broken apart.

"Wow, Reggie. I guess absent does make the heart grow fonder," she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.

Regulus hummed his agreement. He moved his head so he could better look at her. "What was the plan for today?"

"Muggle London. We're going to play tourist as I doubt you've ever visited the sights London is most famous for," she said, still not drawing away from him. They were mere inches apart.

Regulus kissed her nose, as it was level with his mouth at that moment. "Lead away, Addy."

He stepped away from her, linking their hands. The hot sunshine felt good on his bare neck as he tugged her to start walking. She looked slightly dazed. She stumbled forward, eyeing Regulus for a moment. Whatever she was thinking, she pushed away, though. She began to tell him how they were going to travel on something called the Tube and visit Westminster Abbey and then something called Harrods.

Regulus did not care what they did. As long as they did it together. Today they could sit in a pile of dragon dung for all he cared. He was going to take his father's advice for the day and live this day to the fullest.

Regulus had always thought that meeting Atlanta Black was like a line out of a storybook. She'd appeared out of nowhere from the future, saying impossible things. She was beautiful, talented and caring. She had a strange, confusing and bizarre life. Atlanta told him about things he'd never heard of, never thought of, never understood. One of those things were fairytales. From what Regulus understood, a fairytale was a type of story Muggles told to their children. They started with "once upon a time" and ended with "and they lived happily ever after."

But that was not how these stories started out. The tales most children knew today and loved had begun as dark tales. These dark tales did not end with everyone living happily ever after. There was always a lesson, a moral, but it wasn't as simple as the stories had become.

Atlanta and Regulus were a fairytale. They had their once upon a time, but they would not get a happily ever after. At the moment, they were in the middle of the story, the part where it appeared nothing could possibly go wrong. The villain was soon to appear and reclaim what was his and the end would begin and no one would happily ever after.


	18. I Found a Boy

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. I do own a lot of shoes. If you happen to see those, they are mine.**

_A/N: M/M in this chapter. Just kissing, nothing more. But, you've been warned if that kind of thing upsets you._

_Edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_I Found a Boy_**

* * *

Sirius slammed the door, not worrying about the level of noise. It was only him and Remus in the guest wing at Potter Manor, Peter having buggered off earlier that day. Pressing his back to the door, he looked around, finding the person he was looking for sitting on the bed as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius' tongue refused to unglue itself from the roof of his mouth.

"Er, Sirius?"

Once again, nothing was happening. His mouth refused to work. There were words, oh so many words, but none of them wanted to make an appearance for ears to hear.

"What's wrong? You're kind of scaring me."

Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Why was this so hard? Sirius Black had approached a multitude of girls throughout his lifetime and it was as easy as quirking a single eyebrow to get them to fall into his arms. He had never once been nervous.

Sirius Black did not get nervous. It was unheard of. Sirius Black acted. Sirius Black charmed. Sirius Black was the most sought after male at Hogwarts. Sirius Black was marvelous.

Sirius Black was referring to himself in third person and using his full name.

"Sirius Orion Black, tell me now why you're acting so weird."

Pushing himself off the door, Sirius launched himself across the bedroom. In a few steps he landed on the bed, right on top of the reason for his late night jaunt down the hall. Remus let out an undignified noise that sounded almost like a high pitched squeak. Remus attempted to move out from under Sirius. Sirius had the element of surprise and pinned Remus to the bed, swooping down and kissing him full on the lips.

"Mmfghfmmnfk," Remus said.

Sirius pulled away and stared down at his best friend.

"I kiss you and you decide it's high time you make up words?"

"Wuzkignikens," Remus went on.

Having no clue what Remus was trying to tell him, Sirius let his elbows fall to the bed, taking the space between Remus' shoulder and head. He rested his head in his hands and stared at his friend, who was still struggling to speak English.

"Whatwasthat?"

"Hmm, that is closer to English, Moony. Good. I almost understood that," Sirius offered, smiling in a bemused manner.

"Youarelyingontopofme."

"Pause, breathe between words," Sirius advised. "I think you're speaking English now."

Remus blinked at him owlishly.

"I don't know how you cannot get it, Moony. This has been the longest summer of my life," Sirius said, staring down at Remus. The room was dark, but the ambient light pouring in from outside allowed Sirius to make out Remus' handsome features. Sirius was having a hard time remembering when he had failed to see how utterly gorgeous Remus happened to be. While he had a few scars along his cheeks, they only enhanced his features. He had a kind of soft, ruggedness to him that Sirius found himself unable to look away from.

Since realizing at the end of school he was in love with his best friend, Sirius had been unable to figure out how to let the other man know. The day following Sirius' revelation, he thought long and hard with a head clear of mind altering drugs.

He drew the same conclusion.

Sirius Black was in love with Remus Lupin.

School ended and Sirius had no clue how to go about letting Remus know. Girls…he didn't care about them. They were distractions, so he was able to swoop in, bat his eyes lashes, flash a grin or two, and bam, he had a snogging partner.

Remus was not a snogging partner.

He was Remus, Moony, a fellow Marauder.

He was also a boy.

This had weirded Sirius out for a few days, during which James swore up and down Sirius was ill. Mrs. Potter had forced so many various potions for various alinements down Sirius's throat before they finally decided Sirius was "better."

Sirius never did figure out what they thought was wrong with him.

As July approached, Sirius finally wrote to Atlanta asking her for advice on how to approach Remus. He wrote to her because a.) she already knew he was into Remus on a deeper level and b.) had this crazy idea the pair of boys were supposed to get together. This lead to c.) he knew she wouldn't freak out on him.

She'd given him some advice: flirt obnoxiously.

Because he knew his usual methods of flirting would not work with Remus (Remus would automatically assume there was something wrong with Sirius and more than likely force him to see a healer), he asked Atlanta what the hell she meant.

_Sirius, darling idiot, _Atlanta had written, _you already flirt with one another. The casual touches, the fact you cuddle up next to Remus any chance you get…you flick his hair out of his eyes constantly. Keep acting like you NORMALLY do, but add on eye contact. Use your charm, lay it on thick. Let him KNOW you are interested in him, but not in the cocky way you go up to girls. You care about Remus, so you need to go about it differently. _

So, Sirius had done this during Remus' visit to the Potter Manor. For a whole week, he made sure he spent all the time he could with Remus, he made sure to make lots of eye contact and dropped subtle hints left and right.

Remus thought the hints were all jokes.

Remus failed to notice anything was different.

Sirius yanked his hair out and began talking in third person using his full name.

Tomorrow morning, Remus was going to go home and he would not see him till they were on the train back to Hogwarts. In a fit of rashness, Sirius stormed out of his own bedroom and down the hall to where Remus was staying. He flung the door open and then slammed it, knowing it was easy to wake the werewolf and not the rest of the house.

Then the panic set it.

Then Sirius got mad at himself.

Then there was that annoying conversation with himself in third person which lead to Sirius launching himself at Remus and kissing him and Remus forgetting how to speak English.

And here they were. Remus was still stringing words together and looking flustered and Sirius was gazing down at the wonderful being that was Remus Lupin.

"You kissed me," Remus finally said in proper English. "On the lips. And you are lying on top of me."

"I noticed."

"Why?"

Sirius sighed. He should have known he'd have to spell it out for Remus. He dropped his head out of his hand. It landed in the crook of Remus' neck. He turned his head a bit and breathed in deep the mixtures of smells. There was the scent of Remus: a little doggy, a little bit booky, and a little inky. There was also the scent of whatever Mrs. Potter used to clean the sheets, which was annoyingly floral.

"You don't make thing easy, do you?" Sirius muttered, lifting his head back up to see Remus.

Remus looked panicked.

"Oh, calm down. If you reject me it won't be the end of the world," Sirius lied.

It would be the end of the world.

Oh, don't be so dramatic, Sirius Black. Oh, and stop thinking in third person.

"Reject you?" Remus squeaked.

Sirius gave himself a mental shake and put his head into matter at hand. He'd deal with this thinking in third person later.

"Did I not make my intentions clear? I want you," Sirius said, lowering his face closer to Remus' with each word.

"Why?"

Why? What a loaded question…

"I'm attracted to you. I want to do this." Sirius lowered his head the last few inches and kissed Remus' full mouth again. "I want to do this." He darted his tongue out and lightly ran it over those lips he'd just kissed. Remus' sharp intake of breath informed Sirius he was affecting the man under him. The shifting Remus did also informed Sirius he was doing things the werewolf enjoyed. "I want to do this." Sirius trailed kisses down the other's jaw line then ran his tongue lightly up and down Remus' neck. Remus gasp. "And this." Sirius kissed Remus' mouth again and while doing that teased the other boy's bottom lip with his tongue. He was about to draw away when Remus' mouth opened a fraction.

That was all the invitation Sirius needed to deepen the kiss. Shifting himself again, he steady himself while he continued kissing. He ran his hands over the sides of Remus's face and dragged his fingers through the other's hair. Sirius felt Remus' hand on his back, gripping his t-shirt.

Sirius drew away and said, "And so much more."

"Why me?" Remus breathed. "Why now?"

Sirius figured it was a bit early to blurt out I LOVE YOU, so he settled on, "You cause me to feel things that no one else has ever caused me to feel. It just took me a while to figure it out. It makes sense to me."

"But…"

"It's you."

Sirius pressed himself more into Remus, who gasped again. Wrapping his arms around the werewolf, Sirius rolled to the side, causing the pair to their sides facing one another. He wove his legs with Remus' legs and kept his arms wrapped around Remus. He butted their foreheads together.

"It's always been you, Moony. I just didn't know it," Sirius admitted. "But I've realized it. The question is now, do you want me."

Remus stared at Sirius. Stared at him for a so long, Sirius was starting to worry he'd broken Remus.

"You're an idiot," Remus announced.

Before Sirius could respond, Remus was kissing him and Sirius figured he'd argue about his status as an idiot at a later date.


	19. Call Me Sherlock

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. I do own a lot of nail polish. Even in Slytherin green.**

_A/N: This is from the Sorting Hat's POV before and during the Sorting of Atlanta Black in September 1977. _

_Edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_Call Me Sherlock_**

* * *

Being a Hat is boring. Hell, being a Hat without a name is horrible. Why won't anyone give me a damn name?

Hat.

Sorting Hat.

THE Sorting Hat.

THE HAT.

That is what they call me. Honestly. Couldn't the Founders who made me have given me a name? Like, oh, I don't know…Charlie? John. Fitzsimmions. Janus.

SOMETHING.

They gave me a brain, allowed me to think for myself but they didn't bother to give me a name. People name EVERYTHING. Cats, dogs, frogs, snakes, other people…yet, me? I don't get a name. I think on a higher level than any animal and most people I come in contact with for that fact, yet I have no name.

I should name myself.

Oh, blast. I was supposed to make up a stupid song. I think I'll recycle a song. I know I'm supposed to spend ALL YEAR making up a new song, but do you honestly think I sit around in the Headmaster's office thinking of various ways to say the same blasted thing each year?

No.

I do other things.

Like plot how to get arms. Or legs. I occasionally plot world domination. I can totally see this, too. Me, a beat up hat without a name, taking over the world through simple logic!

Okay, I can't see it. I'd need arms, legs and a body to take over the world. No one listens to me. I'm a freaking hat.

Without a name.

I will name myself.

I'd like to be called Sherlock. Dumbledore used to read out loud about some guy named Sherlock Holmes. Those were better than those other books he read. Some of the books that man likes are…strange.

But, like Sherlock, I make deductions. It is what I do each year to all those ickle first years. I deduce them into separate houses.

I'm on the move right now, meaning it's the start of term. I only get to travel once a year and it's to the same damn place: the Great Hall. I get to sit on a stool and sing a song. Whoo. Hoo.

Oh. Song.

Blast. I forgot to make one up.

Well, here goes. The one time I speak out loud to the whole school and I have to sing a stupid song I doubt any of the students actually listen to.

"I'm ugly, but looks are not everything. I plan to eat myself if you find a smarter hat than me. I am the cleverest object on Earth and one day I will take it by storm. While I wish I had a name, the four founders, as smart as they were, failed to give me a name, just a purpose. So put me on and I'll deduce you into a House. Be it Gryffindor, where you can be bold and brash, or Slytherin, where you must be cunning and shrewd. If you have a sharp mind and wit, be ready to wear blue and cheer for Ravenclaw. If you are loyal and super cute, Hufflepuff you'll be. Now, put me on your head and let me see inside so I can tell you where to go."

Not my best work. I made that up on the fly, so sue me.

Seriously. Sue me. I dare you.

If I had hands I'd be rubbing them together. I've got my first victim!

"Ah, first vict— student. Wait a second. You're old!"

_Yeah, I kind of noticed that Hat._

"Call me Sherlock."

_Okay. Sherlock. I know I'm old. This is my seventh year. Or eighth. If you want to be picky. _

"I will be picky. Now, let's see. Besides being OLD, Atlanta Black, you have already been sorted. I think."

I poke around in this girl's head. Her mind is OLDER than I've seen in years, but she's a time traveler. Man, I love time travelers. They are so much fun to poke around with. But this one, man, she's different. For one, she'd not FROM Hogwarts. She's American. Part werewolf. And she's already been at Hogwarts for a year, simply refused to be sorted.

Ah, her reasons make sense.

Why do I know the name Atlanta Black? Why do I have this uncanny sense of déjà vu? I know I haven't poked around here before. I leave traces.

"Are you sure haven't sorted you before? I know your name, but I don't recognize anything in your head."

_Well, someone might have shared my name, did you think of that?_

"How many Atlanta Blacks are there who are part werewolf?"

_Oh. Good point. Not many._

"You know. The girl I sorted before I hadn't realized she was a werewolf mix, so I didn't tell her. But you were told by…Sirius Black? How the hell— Remus Lupin's your father? Interesting. Gryffindor. Very brave man."

_I know._

"He's dead in your future. Well, you'll be happy to know that future has been erased! Whoever threw you back in time messed everything up all the way back to 1943!"

I'm sure this is the same girl who went by Calliope Riddle. Or related to her in some sense, but I'm not going to tell her this. It'll just confuse her. It confuses me, and I'm a genius.

I'd sorted Calliope Riddle already as Atlanta Black and put her in Gryffindor according to her head. Calliope didn't believe me, as someone had messed with her mind. Calliope Riddle didn't think she was a time traveller either. It was almost painful to poke around in her head, so I sent her on her merry way to where she wanted to go.

_Draco went to 1943?_

"I don't know where Draco went. I've never met a Draco. Okay, I need to sort you, Miss Black."

_Well, get to it, Sherlock. You've got a whole mess of first years to get to after me. I got to go first. Because I'm old. _

"Well, aren't you special."

_No. Not really_.

"Let's see. You're rather smart. Clever even. Though, you're not driven by obtaining more knowledge….you'd make a terrible Slytherin even if you're in love with one."

She has very little self-preservation and would rather eat a slug than lead someone anywhere. And she's almost anti-tradition even though she was raised in a traditional pureblood enviroment.

Wait a second…

"Wait, who else is here in your head?"

Someone that is not this girl got really pissed off at me when I said she's make a terrible Slytherin. I move through the layers and would drop my jaw if I had one.

"Is that…no, how did you get Tom Riddle in your head?"

_Er…Well, you see…_

And I do see it. A potion accident, magic mixing and suddenly there is a fuzzy, almost solid image of Tom Riddle. And he lives in her arm and hangs out in her head.

Creepy. Tom Riddle, the guy who I'm pretty sure messed up Calliope Riddle, who forgot she was Atlanta Black.

This is strange and creepy.

And so COOL!

I think I got it. Eleven-year-old Atlanta Black is the future version of this one I'm currently trying to sort! Draco sent this version back to this time period on accident. I see this in her mind, walking into a corridor and Draco vanishing and her appearing upstairs in 1976. This is the FIRST time I'm REALLY sorting Atlanta Black. The eleven-year-old one I'll sort in the future will be born in a few years from now and somehow attend Hogwarts instead of…that American school this girl attended for six years. And the Atlanta Black I sorted in 1943 (the actual first time I sorted an Atlanta Black) was the one I had already sorted in the future. So, she travels back in time from the future!

This is so cool! I love time travel. It's so confusing it's brilliant.

And the Tom Riddle in her head is…odd. He's…quite different from the one Calliope Riddle knew in her own head. Odd.

But so cool!

_He says that I would make a good Slytherin and he is insulted you don't think I would. I'm resourceful and determined when I want to be._

"Ah, well, I'm not too concerned what Tom Riddle thinks. Now, where to sort you. Brave…yes. Plenty of bravery. But, you are not reckless or daring enough for Godric. You tend to think more before you act than he likes."

_You're saying Remus is reckless_?

"In a sense, he is. You exist."

_Point._

"And you are here, so I guess your Draco is reckless as well."

_Add mental snort here, Sherlock. Draco isn't reckless in the least. He's a true Slytherin. _

"I'll be the judge of that when I meet the kid. Now, back to you. You are loyal, but you're not that hard working. You tend to give up when your determination gives out. You are rather just, though. Standing up to bullies, keeping your Regulus safe."

If I had eyes, I'm sure I'd be watching the girl blush. She is totally infatuated with Regulus Black. Too bad it'll never work for them. I know those Blacks. Slytherins to the core, except one. Eh, maybe two. Or three. But, Regulus will toe that family line no matter how miserable it makes him. He has a ridiculous sense of duty.

"But, you're not too tolerant. Tragic. And you will play dirty when you need to and you're not really dedicated to much of anything. You get distracted rather easily don't you?"

_Hey, look, a butterfly!_

"Exactly."

_Oh! Shiny!_

"Witty. You are witty."

_Oh, I feel witty, and pretty and giddy and light! Oops, I floated off. Cookies! Tom told me the Dark Side has cookies. I like cookies. _

"And creative. How many people would have thought to stick Tom Riddle into their arm? That is rather original. And you do march to your own drum…"

_Tom says put me in Ravenclaw. It's the only House that gets along with both Gryffindor and Slytherin_.

"I don't care what Tom has to say."

I need to put her somewhere, though. She's got a lot of the traits for Ravenclaw. I doubt Rowena would take the girl, but I keep putting Lovegoods in that house and they're batty. And I think she'll get along with that Moffat kid. He was weird too.

BAH! NO! I can't agree with Tom!

But, Tom does have a point. If she wants to keep it up with Regulus, she'll have to remain neutral. That kid isn't brave enough to be seen with a Gryffindor. Or a Hufflepuff.

Bah! When did sorting become hard?

_You're doing a lot of mental ranting. Ranting is fun, though, so go ahead and do it. I've got all the time in the world. Heh, get it. Time? I'm a time traveler! _

I can feel Tom's amusement even if I can't see or "read" it in her mind. I can only "feel" Tom. It's highly annoying. I want to know what Tom is thinking.

Bah. I know what Tom is thinking.

"You might be right. All right. Fine. Tom wins. I win and you win by going to RAVENCLAW!"

_Nice chatting, Sherlock._

And she's gone.

On to the next!

Oh, bother. This one is boring. I don't even have to look. I hate those ones.


	20. You Know How I Feel

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I still do not own it. Still own shoes and nail polish, though. **

_A/N: edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_You Know How I Feel_**

* * *

"We should tell Prongs and Wormtail."

Remus stared at Sirius in alarm. Sirius cocked his head to the side, nonplussed.

"Why don't you want to tell them? You know what happens when we don't tell secrets, Moony," Sirius reminded the werewolf. "I know they think something is up."

"That's because you've stopped making out with random girls?!" Remus screeched.

Sirius jerked backwards and almost fell out of the bed.

"You want me to snog girls?" Sirius asked, honestly confused by Remus' behavior.

Remus was on his feet and pacing their dormitory before Sirius could recover his wits and keep Remus on the bed with him. If he had known his suggestion of telling their friends about their change in relationship status would result in Remus leaving the bed, he would have kept his mouth shut. They were blissfully alone in the dormitory for once. James was off with Lily somewhere to do Head Boy and Girl things.

Or to snogging the daylights out of one another.

Everyone knew Lily caved and had said the single word James Potter had been waiting for her to say when he asked her on a date third year.

Sirius had no clue where Peter had buggered off to. Peter had been missing in action quite often this year. Sirius was not sure if it was due to the fact he was in almost none of their classes or the fact that all three of the Marauders were in serious relationships.

Serious Relationship. Sirius was in a Serious Relationship.

No, no, must not laugh.

Sirius allowed a grin to paint his features instead.

He liked the fact he was in a Serious Relationship.

After the night he had…attacked Remus with a kiss, things had been good. After some serious kissing, the pair had talked things over. Sirius was glad they were on the same wave length for once. Granted, it took Sirius thirty minutes to get Remus to admit to the fact Remus had liked Sirius in a more than friendly manner since fourth year, but by the time the sun rose, they were in a Serious Relationship. Sirius had clarified this matter before going to his own room and wound up with a stuttering non-English speaking Remus.

Then Remus had gone home.

Sirius' boyfriend had gone home. He felt an odd glow when he thought the word "boyfriend."

The weeks following before they returned to school, the boys continued to write letters to one another— something the pair had always done. Now, though, the content had changed a bit. Remus was still rather shy about the whole situation, somehow managing to convey his lack of English speaking skills through writing.

Sirius thought it was cute.

Then he wondered if he ought to have his head checked as he thought something was cute.

Once back at school, there were random, stolen snogging sessions between classes…between meals…when ever they could manage. At night once Remus was sure the other two were asleep, he'd fling his covers back and Sirius would dart over to the bed. More snogging usually happened until they fell asleep.

Sometimes more than snogging, but Sirius didn't kiss and tell.

However, neither had mentioned their change in status to either of their friends. Remus was shy about the whole thing in front of other people. Sirius wasn't, but respected Remus' silence.

The whole thing was very grin worthy.

"Stop grinning like that!" Remus ordered. "This is serious."

"No, I am Sirius."

"NO!"

"I'm not?" Sirius asked, sitting up. "Oh, no. I guess I ought to inform my mother I'm no longer Sirius. I wonder who I am? I wonder if she'll take Sirius back, since I'm not him."

"SIRIUS!" Remus shouted, pulling at his hair.

Seeing Remus in this state of high anxiety, Sirius went into damage control mode. He swiftly stood and gathered Remus into his arms. Remus tried to push him a way a few times before giving up. He collapsed into Sirius.

Since the night at the Potter's, Remus went through stages. There was Loving Stage, where Remus could not seem to get enough of Sirius. Remus played with his hair, cuddled into him, kissed him constantly, hugged him, and was pretty much perfect.

There were other stages, tragically.

Panic Stage happened more often than Sirius cared for. This stage usually included a rather jumpy Remus who would jump when Sirius bushed against him and flinched when Sirius said anything. Panic was always clearly written on his face, yet it was unclear to anyone save Sirius what caused it. James asked Remus quite a few times what was wrong when Remus was in Panic Stage. Remus never admitted what was out of order, but he would talk louder than normal and if all else failed, he fled the scene.

This only lead to James having more questions. Panic Stage was a lot like when Remus was keeping the fact he was a werewolf from them, thus why James thought there was another HUGE secret Remus was hiding.

Sirius wanted to tell James what Remus' issue was, but had a feeling Remus might stab him with a knife if he did.

He'd already been stabbed with a knife once in his life.

The final stage was Denial.

This stage occurred most often in private. Denial only appeared in the depths of Remus' golden eyes and it usually occurred when Remus caught Sirius staring at him with a dopy look on his face. (Sirius was man enough to admit that Remus caused him to go dopy and mushy.)

Besides the Panic and Denial, things were marvelous. They'd be splendiferous if Remus would do away with Panic and Denial. (Sirius was spending a lot of time with Remus. The use of large words was contagious.) Sirius theorized Panic and Denial would exit stage right if those closest to Remus knew about their new found contentment.

"Remus, dearest, we need to tell our friends," Sirius said softly, hoping to quell Panic and avoid Denial showing up in the dormitory. So far only Panic was appearing in those beautiful amber eyes.

Remus let his head fall to Sirius' shoulder and he let go on the tension in his body.

Denial adverted. Panic quelled.

"Why? Why can't we keep it to ourselves?" Remus mumbled.

"Don't you want to show me off?"

Sirius wasn't afraid of the answer. He knew that somewhere in Remus' thick skull there was a bit of him that wanted to drag Sirius around and show the world he'd landed such a stud. There was, though, another part of Remus that was raised sheltered from the wizarding world and thus didn't understand it was perfectly normal for wizards to be into other wizards. While Sirius had been alarmed when he had figured out he was into Remus, it wasn't because he viewed it as something wrong. Sirius had honestly never looked at guys before. Well, other than Remus.

Hell, he didn't really look at girls. He only went out with girls because he thought that was what he ought to be doing.

Sirius was an idiot.

"Hey, remember when you told me I was an idiot after I kissed you the first time?"

"Yes."

"I'm an idiot! Let's tell James and Peter! Let's tell Lanta and Regulus! Hell, let's tell Snape I'm an imbecile!"

Remus pushed Sirius away from him and felt his forehead. Frowning, Remus said, "Well, you don't have a fever. Why do you want to go tell them you're an idiot?"

"It'll be fun!"

Sirius let his arms drop from around Remus and ran to James' trunk. Flinging the lid open, he dug around through various gross items (why did James have moldy pants in his trunk already?) until he found the Marauder's Map. He pulled it out and tapped it with his wand. The map unfurled for him and told him that James and Peter were together. With Lily, Atlanta and Regulus…oddly enough.

Eh, might as well come out to everyone on the planet.

"Come along, Moony!"

Sirius bounced (honestly, he bounced) out of the dormitory and headed down to the Entrance Hall, Remus on his heels. He went out the front doors and headed down to the lake. The group of people he was looking for were all seated under a tree near the edge of the lake, enjoying the abnormally warm late September afternoon. Sirius bounded down and came to a halt near the edge of the blanket one of the girls no doubt had brought to sit on.

Sirius grinned wildly at the group. James and Peter looked at him with concerned expressions, while Lily looked mildly annoyed. Atlanta and Regulus, though, both seemed to know what Sirius was about to announce. They exchanged a look of knowing between them.

"Hi!" Sirius greeted. "Fancy finding you lot here. Together."

Sirius tripped forward as Remus ran into him. Remus grabbed him around the waist to prevent a face plant into the blanket. He quickly removed his hands from Sirius' waist the moment Sirius was stable.

"Hello, Sirius," James said. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to tell you all that I'm an idiot."

"Finally. He admits it!" Regulus said, tossing his arms in the air. "After seventeen years, he finally figures it out!"

"Reggie, I doubt he means it in the sense you think he means it," Atlanta offered, flicking Regulus' hair out of his eyes.

She looked rather odd now that she was sporting a Hogwarts uniform. She was wearing the shapeless black robe and white dress shirt they all wore, only she was wearing a blue and silver tie instead of red and gold. (Or green and silver like Regulus.) Sirius kind of missed her funky uniform from her America.

"Then how does he mean it?" Peter asked, looking confused.

"I think he means it in the sense he's an idiot it has taken him seven years to figure out he is in love with Remus," Lily explained.

Remus, behind Sirius still, choked and blanched. Sirius turned and thumped Remus on the back.

"All right, Moony?"

Remus sputtered and stopped speaking English.

"Murph."

"He does this," Sirius explained, good natured smile on his face. "But Evans is right."

Peter rolled his eyes, turned to Atlanta and asked, "Why does this happen when I move my wand this way?"

He jerked his wand upwards, then to the left and something blew up behind them. Atlanta raised her eyebrows. There were several shirks and screams as people scampered out from under a tree that had all it's leaves blown up into the air. The leaves began raining down, creating a shower of reds, oranges and yellows.

"I don't know. What were you trying to do?"

"WAIT A MINUTE!" James shouted.

"Yes, James?" Sirius asked.

"What is going on? Sirius just informed us he's an idiot and none of you are surprised? And what does Sirius being an idiot have to do with him being in love with Remus?"

"James, darling, you really are dense, aren't you?" Lily fondly asked.

"Fuknksuiskiphfem," Remus said.

"Did he make up his own language to speak when he's flustered?" Atlanta asked.

"I think so," Sirius offered, tossing an arm over Remus' shoulder. He pulled him to his side. Remus came, but remained stiff as a board.

"What am I missing?" James demanded.

"We're dating," Sirius said as Remus sputtered and blanched again. "He didn't want to tell you yet, for some unknown reason. Love, it helps it you breathe."

Remus sputtered, choked and crumpled into a heap at Sirius' feet.

Atlanta crawled over to him and peered at him. "I think he's okay. I think he has issues believing it's true."

"Hufmikmufhm," Remus said. It sounded as if he was agreeing with her.

Atlanta pulled Remus into a seated position. Sirius dropped down next to Remus and plunked his head into Remus' lap. Peter jerked his wand again and all the leaves fell off the tree. The group sat in the pile of leaves for a moment not moving. Sirius opened his mouth and got a mouthful of leaves.

"How the hell did you do that?" Regulus asked.

There were sounds of people trying to escape the leaves.

"I don't know. I'm supposedly good at Charms," Peter muttered, lost in the pile of leaves.

"So, wait. Sirius is dating Remus?"

"Yes, James." Lily said.

"For how long?"

"I don't know, they didn't share that bit."

"They've been into one another for a very long time. Only they failed to know it," Atlanta said. "They finally got their act together and decided to like one another while allowing the other person to know. Brilliant when that happens. Though, Remus is having issues processing this for reasons unknown. I think you are now caught up, James."

"Fickliekd," Remus offered.

"Yes, dear, that makes a whole lot of sense," Atlanta mused.

Sirius was buried, so he remained silent, as he didn't need another mouthful of leaves. He also didn't want to move from Remus' lap even if he was buried in leaves.

"Are we going to stay buried in leaves?" Regulus asked.

"Don't you like being buried in leaves up to your neck?" Atlanta asked in a tone Sirius didn't understand till Regulus remained silent for a long beat. Atlanta let out a laugh.

Clearing the leaves away from his face, Sirius announced, "I can't see. I'm buried alive!"

Sirius pulled his head out of Remus' lap, regretfully. He fought his way to the surface and stared at the group as they laughed. The others had their heads above the leaves, but had leaves and twigs stuck in their hair. Regulus was slowly running his hands through Atlanta's hair, pulling leaves out. James was running his hands over his hair to remove the leaves. Lily was plucking leaves out that James missed. Slowly, everyone worked to get out of the leaves Peter had burred them in. Somehow, the leaves were contained to the blanket. After they were all on their feet and leaf free, James grabbed both Sirius and Remus by the shoulders and asked, "Just to be clear, you two have finally started dating right?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean _finally_?" Remus asked, his voice cracking a bit.

"Ark! He speaks English!" Atlanta laughed.

"Well, anyone could tell Sirius was into you," Peter offered. "Though, James cannot claim this."

"I can claim if I see fit," James remarked in a lofty tone.

Lily rolled her eyes, grabbing James by the hand. With her free hand she plucked out a leaf of out his crazy hair. The Battle of the Leaves had left his looking more out of control than usual.

"You're hopeless," Lily commented fondly.

"So, everyone understands Remus is mine?" Sirius asked.

Remus turned bright red.

"Yes," everyone chorused.

It wasn't until two hours later, Sirius realized Regulus Black had been hanging out with a bunch of Gryffindors and one of them had been James Potter. And no one wound up hexed, cursed or beaten up.


	21. Gone

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I don't own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_Gone_**

* * *

"There is a girl in Moony's bed."

This statement was bizarre for a wide array of reasons. One, there had never been a girl in Remus' bed in the past seven years. Two, besides a few casual friendships with girls, none of the others Marauders had seen Remus in the company of a girl on a regular basis other than Lily Evans and Atlanta Black (both whom had boyfriends). Three, currently Remus was in the Shirking Shack, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to show up and heal him from last night's transformation. Four, Remus was dating Sirius, who was not a girl. Five, the girl in Moony's bed was Sirius' brother's girlfriend, who shouldn't be curled up in Moony's bed.

"I forgot it was the full moon," Atlanta said, staring at the three boys, who were gaping at her.

She rubbed her eyes for a moment before Sirius realized it was not sleep she was wiping away but tears. They dumped out of her eyes and fell down her face in tiny rivers.

"Gargh," Peter said eloquently. "She's even beautiful with tears streaming down her face."

James open and closed his mouth a few times. Sirius could tell James shared Peter's observations, but for the first time James Potter wasn't going to voice his opinion. More than likely because Lily Evans would hear and later hex him into oblivion. While normally James not voicing in opinion required lots of mocking by Sirius, currently he was hung up on what had happened to Atlanta. This was very abnormal behavior for the girl. She knew the moon cycle as well as Remus and something must have distracted her for her to forget they'd all be breaking into the Shirking Shake instead of in their room.

"Siri," Atlanta croaked, her voice hitching at the last syllable.

That name was all he needed to spring into action.

His childhood nickname he only allowed Remus call him occasionally, the nickname that Regulus used when he slipped up and forgot to be angry.

All it took was that one word and Sirius knew.

He knew why tears were streaming down her face like waterfalls. He knew why she was in Remus's bed and why she had forgotten it was the full moon the night before. Sirius knew why she wasn't sobbing or having a fit like most girls did when they cried.

With one word, he allowed the fierce need to protect and comfort her take over him. He had felt it from the moment she'd dropped down in front of him over a year ago, but after really paying attention, he noticed she did not need protecting. She did not need comfort. She was a one woman army, protecting and comforting those around her.

But, not at the moment.

In that one word, he understood. He comprehended why he wanted to protect her, why he'd been weary of her getting close to his brother, why he enjoyed her company and why he was about to do what to do.

She was his family. He didn't understand the connection, but she was his family. In a vastly different sense than the Marauders or even Regulus. There was some truth in whatever crazy ramblings she'd said had said when she arrived. While she later claimed insanity, Sirius knew she had been speaking the truth that night.

She knew him. She knew Remus. Very well.

The three of them somehow made up a family.

He had to protect her, care for her and console her. It was his job at the moment because Remus was indisposed.

Sirius knew exactly what had happened while he'd been running around with his werewolf.

He knew and it broke his heart for a whole different reason than it broke Atlanta's heart.

In a few short steps Sirius was across the room, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him. She buried her face into his chest, pulling fists full of shirt into her hands.

"I know, I know. You don't have to say it," he whispered into her hair.

Rubbing slow circles on her back, he felt her slowly loosen her grip on his shirt. She shook her head back and forth. He felt her tremors as she attempted to get words out.

"He's gone. Gone," she cried hoarsely into his chest. "I didn't save him….he's gone."

Sirius clutched her tightly. He felt her tighten her grip on his shirt, pulling him closer to her.

"It hurts."

"I know, honey. I know," Sirius said, failing to notice what he'd called her. He felt her curl into herself, almost crawling into his lap like a child would. Only she didn't quite make it and simply let out a muffled wail of a sob.

Behind him, Sirius heard Peter and James get into bed. Sirius wasn't sure how long he sat holding Atlanta till she fell into an exhausted sleep in his arms. He lay her back and crawled into the bed next to her, watching her tear stained face. He watched her till the sun fully rose and he heard the noise of the rest of the tower waking. He heard James stir after a while, Peter shortly after.

"Padfoot, mate?"

"I'm awake," Sirius said, carefully extracting himself. He turned and noticed James' face. "I'll explain outside."

Sirius grabbed his school robes and quickly changed. He dragged his toothbrush through his mouth, feeling his sleepless night in every limb. Shaking his head, he met James and Peter outside the dormitory door. They both looked grave. While Sirius was sure Peter had no clue what had happened, by the dark look on James' face, Sirius was sure James understood. Sirius was glad, as he knew he couldn't put it into words what had caused Atlanta to break apart in front of them.

"They had a fight," Sirius started. "I'm pretty sure they're done."

"Who? Atlanta and Regulus?" Peter asked, looking confused.

James sent Peter a look.

"What did they fight about?"

Sirius stared at James. James, being Sirius's best friend, read Sirius' face with ease and nodded. Peter continued to look befuddled. James placed a hand over his forearm on his left side. Sirius nodded.

"I'm going to go meet Lily."

James turned, leaving Sirius alone with Peter.

"They broke up from one fight?"

"Pete, it was a big fight. Very big. My brother made a very poor, but not all that surprising choice."

"Oh," Pete squeaked, slapping his chubby hand over his mouth. He looked at where James had gone and mimicked the motion James had done. His watery eyes went large and he put his hand back over his mouth and gave off a muffled, "Oh."

Sirius nodded, starting down the stairs to the common room.

He wasn't surprised when he reached his first class to find Atlanta not there. Nor was he all that surprised when Regulus spent the day frantically searching for her, but avoided the Gryffindors. One dark look from his brother at dinner informed Regulus where Atlanta was currently hiding. And no one was going to let Regulus in. Sirius watched his brother's usual pureblood facade crumble. Right at the Slytherin table during dinner. Regulus gave up, his head falling right into the golden plate in front of him. Sirius stood up and left, not wanting to watch his brother's heart crumble knowing he'd lost the girl he loved.

Sirius couldn't imagine if Remus did something like that what he'd do. He wasn't sure if he'd be strong enough to leave.

Sirius knew Atlanta was done with Regulus, hence the waterworks in Moony's bed.

"Can I see her?" Lily asked after dinner when she found Sirius brooding in front of the fire. "Remus might want his bed back."

Sirius glanced up. "He can share mine."

"Your bed is gross," Lily reminded him, folding her arms across her chest. "You eat in your bed and who knows what else. There's a reason she chose Remus' bed over the others. It was the only one clean."

"I resent that," James quipped.

"Me too," Peter agreed.

"It's true," Lily grumbled. "Well, mind if I go up and try to pry her out?"

"No. You're right. Moony will be back soon and he won't take kindly to my bed."

James and Peter exchanged looks, but Lily turned and stalked off towards the boy's staircase. Sirius threw a pillow at James.

"If you changed your sheets," James began, but was cut off by a dark look from Sirius.

"My bed is not gross."

"You do gross things in your bed, mate."

"So do you," Sirius snapped.

"He does them alone," Peter muttered, slowly turning red as a pillow flew at his head.

The boys fell silent. Sirius glanced at the doorway to the boy's tower. Fifteen minutes after staring at the entrance, Lily appeared. She was alone. She vanished up the girl's stairs and returned a short while later with a pile of clothing and what looked like a basket of something. She climbed the boys stairs once again and was gone for a full hour before she emerged with Atlanta. Her hair was soaking wet and her face looked like it's been scrubbed within an inch of the outer layer of skim, making the usually creamy skin rather red faced. Atlanta walked towards the fireplace where the group was seated as if it pained her to be walking.

Atlanta had looked rather worn and tired since the start of term, but she looked about five times worse than Moony the day after a rough moon tonight. Lily lead her over to the couch and placed the zombie like Atlanta next to Sirius. Sirius reached over, taking Atlanta's hand into his. It was freezing cold. He squeezed it and she looked slowly over at him.

"Maybe you can't change time?" Atlanta mused, blankly looking at Sirius with her sage green eyes. They looked dull, lacking their usual mischief and sparkle.

"I don't think you're meant to understand time," Sirius offered. "Also, isn't your theory you're from another universe."

"Yes."

For the first time since she'd arrived, when Sirius had brought up something she'd said that first night, she didn't pretended it was the so called Altitude Sickness. He had never admitted to spying on her and Regulus in that strange room on the seventh floor and overhearing that she strongly believed in everything she had said that first night and was lying, as Sirius had suspected, when she blamed it on Altitude Sickness.

He had thought long and hard, watched carefully and decided that Atlanta might be insane, but for Regulus, who tragically was in his right mind, to believe her, there had to be some sort of truth to what she spouted off.

And she had been right about him and Remus.

"Well, maybe you have no control over the course of time this is how things just work here?" Sirius suggested.

Atlanta stared at him for a moment, before sinking into his side. She smelled a lot like a bizarre combination of Remus and Lily, which Sirius found disturbing. Sirius ignored the fact she was soaking the side of his robes with her wet hair. Instead, he put an arm around her and pulled her closer.

"There are times…I think I'm wrong. I've been here for over a year," she said quietly. "I'm not dead. I'm still effecting events, yet they keep happening in the same way before. Why do things keep happening the same, yet different?"

"What are you talking about?" James finally asked.

"She's crazy, remember?" Peter reminded the group.

Lily scoffed. Lily did not share the group's reasoning that Atlanta was slightly insane. Since Atlanta begun to hang around more after…The Incident We Shall Not Speak of Again, she was forever letting little random things slip up, she always seemed to _know_ thinks she should not. Lily thought Atlanta was some sort of Seer. James and Peter reasoned she was mental. Remus and Sirius both felt she was perfectly sane, especially after Sirius shared his conclusions drawn after his incident of spying last spring. Together with what Remus observed about her, they knew she was a little odd, but she spoke the truth.

The group stared at Atlanta, waiting for her comeback.

Usually when accused of being crazy, Atlanta laughed and offered up something rather insane sounding, yet totally understandable. This time, she blankly stared at the fire. She sighed deeply and melted further into Sirius.

"I miss my dad," she said quietly. "He always knew what to do."

"Sorry."

"You suck at this," she informed him.

"I'm a guy."

"So was my dad."

"Well, I'm not a dad. I think you get special wisdom when you're a parent," Sirius suggested.

"No. You just get old and know," she muttered. "I hate those two girls I bunk with in Ravenclaw. They are such gossips. I couldn't stand their chattering last night."

"How did you even get in there?" James asked, who always hated when other people who weren't in Gryffindor got into the tower. Unless he brought them.

"I'm wily," Atlanta offered. "I'm hungry. Can I get the map to get to the kitchens?"

"How about I just take you? Head Girl," Lily offered. From the soft look Lily was giving Atlanta, Sirius knew that Lily wanted to get Atlanta to spill the whole story. Sirius figured Atlanta would refuse knowing Lily would pry, but she pushed herself off Sirius and nodded.

"Think she'll talk?" James asked as he watched Lily and Atlanta leave.

"Yeah," Sirius admitted. "She didn't talk to me because she didn't need to. I know. I don't need the details, nor do I really want them."

Sirius knew both Peter and James were giving him looks of pity, or something along those lines. Mumbling about bed, Sirius stood up and went to the dormitory. He sat back down on Remus's bed and stared at the floor. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to cry for his little brother, the lost boy who allowed people to push him around and follow stupid inbred beliefs.


	22. Fortune Plango Vulnera

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_Fortune Plango Vulnera_**

* * *

Lily Evans had seen many an odd thing since entering the magical world seven years ago. However, while publicly she insisted Atlanta Black wasn't mentally unbalanced, there were times she felt the other girl was off her rocker. Now, though, before Lily sat a broken hearted girl picking at something called a Happy Meal. Lily had no idea what a Happy Meal was, but the House Elves of Hogwarts instantly knew what Atlanta wanted the moment she'd muttered her request.

A Happy Meal consisted of what looked like a hamburger, chips, and a drink. One of the Elves had sat some sort of toy like object near Atlanta's elbow. It looked to be carved out of wood.

"What is that?"

"Huh?"

"That, by your elbow."

Atlanta stopped blankly staring at her hamburger and noticed the wooden object for the first time. She snorted emotionlessly and picked it up.

"I think it's a goblin. I explained the concept of Happy Meals to the House Elves last year. They are my weak spot. I used to collect the toys that came along with them. Granted, I wasn't very good at getting whole collections as I hardly ventured into the Muggle world to eat at McDonalds," Atlanta explained.

"I've heard of McDonalds," Lily said slowly. "House Elves can do fast food, huh?"

Once again, Atlanta let out a snort. She went back to picking at the bun of the hamburger before picking it up and ripping it into tiny pieces. Lily watched, wondering where to begin the conversation she had brought the girl to the kitchens to have.

Atlanta hadn't shared the details of her breakup with Regulus Black with his older brother. Sirius assumed Regulus Black had become a Death Eater, hence why Atlanta broke up with him. Lily, though, felt it went deeper than that. While Lily did not approve of becoming a Death Eater, she had this odd feeling, Atlanta wasn't surprised in the least by that revelation.

"When did you know?"

"The day after his birthday," was the answer.

"And that is?"

"July nineteeth," Atlanta replied.

Lily's jaw dropped open. She did not find herself shocked very often, but this information was rather shocking.

"You've known for four months?!"

Atlanta nodding, shoving a bit of ripped up hamburger into her mouth.

"How?"

"I sensed it," she simply said.

"How?"

Atlanta glanced up and stared blankly at Lily. Lily did her best not to squirm under the green-grey gaze, but it was almost impossible. Atlanta's gaze held such emotion it was hard to meet it. Heart break, acceptance, fear, anger and frustration ran through those jade colored eyes. Then, it all shifted and was gone. It was as if Atlanta had put a puzzle together and was resigned to what it meant.

"I'm going to tell you a story about a boy named Tom," Atlanta said, causing Lily to frown.

What did a boy named Tom have to do with anything? Atlanta looked away, picking up a chip and biting off one end of it.

"He was born in an orphanage. His mother died giving birth to him. The boy never knew any love or affection. He was not abused, but he scared his care givers. He never cried, he was always calm. As he grew up, he scared the other children to the point he was bullied due to the simple fact he was different. In retaliation, he learned to control his magic early in life to protect himself. He was not taught to be kind, taught to be forgiving or taught to love. None of these things came to him naturally. He grew into a cunning, ambitious, and very clever boy. One day, a strange man told this genius of a kid he was a wizard and he was going to school."

Atlanta paused, shoving the rest of the chip into her mouth.

"The boy entered the wizarding world alone, refusing the aid of the old man as he did things on his own. He needed no one. His fate was of his own making. He would not bemoan the hand fate had dealt him in the past, but embrace this new, magical world that was his for the taking."

Lily frowned again. She was about to ask what Atlanta was trying to tell her, when Atlanta went on.

"The boy entered school and was sorted into Slytherin. Due to his past, he was scorned by his fellow housemates. He wasn't a pureblood. He knew nothing of the wizarding world, so it was assumed he was a mudblood."

Lily jerked a bit as Atlanta uttered the vile word so casually. Lily had never heard Atlanta use the world, nor would have expected someone so just and righteous to ever speak it.

"No one from that background could wheel power out of poverty. To show his housemates, he went about being the top of his year; he bested anyone who tried to challenge him. He researched his past and discovered he was a descendant of a very pure pureblood family. Using this information he grew powerful, dark and even more ambitious. Fate does not strike down strong men, he would be the strongest with Slytherin's own blood behind him."

Lily frowned, not liking where this story was going.

"The boy had besides his genius mind, his outside appearance. He looked like an angel. His face was arranged perfectly. He had pale skin, dark eyes and wavy, dark hair. He behaved charmingly to everyone. He seized the tools naturally given to them and abused them to gain what he wanted.

"One day, a girl in his year fell in love with his image and drew him in a sketchbook. Over and over. The girl was from a Dark family, so she used Darks spells and imbued the sketchbook with his hair, skin, magic and soul's essence. The drawings moved, spoke and behaved as the boy, which was the closest the girl would ever get to her love."

Lily snatched a chip off Atlanta's plate, shoving it into her mouth to stop herself from asking questions.

"The boy, age fourteen or fifteen, was trapped in the notebook without realizing it. One part of him went on, grew Darker, left that boy within those pages behind. He learned things, he became things and he began to see the world in a very warped sense. The wheel of fortune turned and he drowned in darkness."

Atlanta's eyes grew darker. She slowly looked up at Lily, an odd look etched on her face.

"Meanwhile, a part of his more innocent self was still alive, within the sketchbook. The self that wasn't as jaded, wasn't as driven to eradicate innocent people, wasn't as demented as the one drowned in Darkness. He was not the self that had yet to taste the high of killing."

Lily felt herself shiver. Goosebumps broke out over her skin and she suddenly realized who this boy grew up to become.

"Are you talking about Voldemort?" Lily whispered.

Instead of answering, Atlanta went on with her story. "The boy trapped in the sketchbook remained in the sketchbook for thirty odd years, till one day a girl who could see magic stumbled upon it. And stumble she did. A combination of a Dark, expired potion and the sketchbook's own Dark magic, caused the boy to escape from the sketchbook. He did not know he'd been trapped in the sketchbook, but he had his magic and that was all that mattered to him."

Atlanta paused, picking up another ripped up bit of hamburger. She chewed for what felt like eons.

"His magic is black, littered with bits of sparkling grey."

Atlanta met Lily's green eyes, which narrowed a bit.

"Once you know how his magic feels, it is easy to find it. Especially if you are magically gifted to see magic," Atlanta said quietly. "I know this boy, as I was the idiot who dumped the purple potion on the sketchbook. I got to know this boy, the lost boy who only wants to prove himself to the wider world. He's not harmed anyone past bullying and doing things almost akin to what James Potter and Sirius Black do to their fellow school mates."

Lily felt her skin crawl at being reminded of this fact. She liked to forget and pretend James had never been an arrogant toe-rag.

"Well, other than killing a rabbit," Atlanta added. "But, it was called for in the end."

"What?"

"The boy is different than his older self. The wheels of fate and fortune dealt the two a different hand," Atlanta pointed out. This point seemed important. "I did not realize who his older self was till I found an evil, dark object. The most foul magic…"

She shook her head, looking away from Lily.

"I recognized the magic— the black with sparkling grey bits," she said quietly. "After I got over my excitement at finding the object, I noticed the distinct magic it had been made with and my heart broke. My Tom— the not ghost like being I spend most of my time— Tom grew into Voldemort."

Lily gasped. "You mean, you still have the…the boy who came out of the sketchbook?"

Atlanta nodded. "Yes. He's tied to me and my magic. It is how he exists. If I leave, he ceases to exist if he doesn't go into a containment unit we've made for him. He's not here currently. He's with the containment unit in the Ravenclaw tower. No one other than Regulus knows about Tom at the moment. Other than you. Oh, and my mentor for my Spellsmiths mastery. It's partly due to Tom that I'm doing that."

Lily was speechless. And kind of angry. She had been jealous when she heard that Atlanta Black, who had come out of nowhere, was accepted into the Spellsmith's program. It was a hard program to get into. Lily had applied and been rejected.

"I've told you all this because Tom is the reason I knew Regulus was a Death Eater. Usually the Dark Marks Voldemort places on the arms of his followers cannot be seen. I'm pretty sure Moldy Trousers knows Dumbledore can see traces of magic, and would know his, so he masks it, except when it is fresh. The first twenty-four hours, it's visible as it adjusts to the person it's on. I saw Regulus less than twenty-four hours after he had taken the Mark."

Lily tried to wrap her head around everything. She wasn't stupid, not at all, but even for Atlanta Black, everything she'd just said was mental. Lily crossed her arms and sat back in the wooden chair, narrowing her eyes. She gave Atlanta a look that told her to explain further.

"I bet you are wondering why I'm telling you this," Atlanta chuckled. "I know you and the majority of the school think I'm crazy, and I might just be, but someday something is going to happen to you and you'll understand why you need to love something to death. You never know when something or someone you love will be taken from you or vise versa. You will never know how the fact you love someone will effect them long after you are gone."

Lily suddenly got an ominous feeling in her stomach. Her insides twisted and she felt a shiver eek down her spine.

"Is Severus a Death Eater?" Lily asked quietly.

Atlanta jerked her head up, looking confused. "At the moment?"

"At any given time," Lily corrected.

"Yes."

Lily turned away. She wasn't sure why she asked. She should have guessed, with the company Severus…no, he was Snape now to her. The company Snape kept she should have known he'd wind up a Death Eater.

"He…might not remain one," Atlanta quietly admitted.

Lily turned her attention back to the strange girl sitting across from her. Atlanta looked confused.

"Reggie doesn't remain one," Atlanta quietly announces.

"Then why did you leave him?"

"I'm putting him in danger," Atlanta admitted quietly. "Regulus has a mission while he's here at school and that mission is me. To convert me and hand me over to Moldy Trousers."

Lily sucked in a deep breath and let it out steadily through her nose. She studied the girl across from her for a very long time before she plunged on with the questioning session. Whatever had happened had made Atlanta open up to her, made her spill things Lily was sure she wasn't supposed to spill.

She was going to get answers.

"Are you from the future?"

"Yes."

"You don't know me in the future, though."

"No."

"Do you know any of us?"

"Remus and Sirius. Remus more so than Sirius," Atlanta offered. "I know of Snape."

"But not James, myself or Peter," Lily stated.

"No."

"Or Regulus."

"I never met him till I sat down next to him last year," Atlanta stated.

"Do you know how all of us die?"

"No. Not all of you."

"Bad things happen to wizards or witches who mess with time," Lily reminded the dark haired witch across from her.

"Yeah, but I'm not one of those crazy witches who traveled through time. I don't think," Atlanta admitted. "I'm not sure any longer. I'm kind of confused. Tom and I need to do some research. And Sherlock…"

She trailed off, falling silent.

Lily Evans demanded to know all there was to know about something before making assumptions. She had never felt that way about Atlanta Black, though. There was something slightly mystical about the girl, from her appearance to how she simply _knew_ things. Her being from the future allowed for this knowledge, but the mystical appearance was something Lily still felt as she gazed at the girl. It wasn't that Atlanta was other worldly, it was something Lily could not place her finger upon.

There was something about the girl that made you want to listen to her insane stories, insane advice and ever crazier suggestions at times. Lily had first felt this when she had watched Snape and Atlanta work together on the first day of classes in Potions last year. Snape never listened to Lily without Lily making a lot of arguments, but Snape had taken Atlanta's suggestions over and over— even after the girl proved to be a disaster at Potions. Honestly, she was worst than Remus.

"Atlanta?"

Atlanta startled, blinking owlishly at Lily.

"Why are you and Tom working so hard to get your mastery?"

"I'm not sure. Tom suggested I apply for the apprenticeship. Tom is a genius and it comes easily to him. He fails to be creative, though. He thinks…logically, clinically. I don't think that way. I think outside the box and then some. So, we're a great partnership. I don't take him to class with me, if that's what you're worried about."

Lily in fact was not worried about that. Atlanta had a natural knack for Charms and had since the day she arrived. If her story about Tom was correct, Tom did not show up till December. There had been no change in her classroom work since that point in time. It had been somewhat shocking she managed to land a summer apprenticeship, but now knowing she had a genius behind her, it made more sense.

"Actually, Snape and I used to create spells when we were friends."

Atlanta blinked at her. "Friends?"

Lily nodded. "We've parted ways due to his current…company."

Atlanta nodded.

"I loved creating spells, but it was something Sev— Snape and I did together," Lily offered. "I think spell creation works better with two."

Atlanta cocked her head to the side.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I want to meet Tom."


	23. Marauders Meet Tom

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I fail to own it. **

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 27 June 2013_

* * *

**_Marauders Meet Tom_**

* * *

Sirius had the oddest feeling. It was a little unsettling. The past few days had flown by in a blur, but now he, James, Remus and Lily were all standing outside a stretch of blank wall on the seventh floor. While James, Remus and Lily had no clue what this special section of wall happened to be, Sirius remembered. He had tried to activate it a few times since he'd followed his brother last spring, but the door never appeared.

He couldn't shake the feeling he was about to walk to his death. They were about to meet a ghost like version of teenage Lord Voldemort, for crying out loud.

"All right, you all remember the story Lily told you?"

"Yeah," James said, bouncing on his heels.

James, for some unknown reason, thought meeting a harmless version of Lord Voldemort was thrilling. Since Lily had told them the tale, James had been anxious to meet this "Tom," who had had a bit of himself trapped in a sketchbook by Walburga Black of all people.

Though, if someone was going to trap evil in a sketchbook, it'd be his mother.

Remus nodded he remembered the cardinal rule: Do not tell Tom he grows up to be Lord Voldemort.

Turns out "Tom" hates himself. Only he doesn't know it.

Atlanta glanced at Sirius briefly before she looking back at Lily. Lily nodded, pretending to zip her lips.

Sirius was leery of entering the room to meet this…thing. Even if the thing hated what he grew up to be. Didn't mean at some point he wouldn't become the same.

"Er, where's Pete?" James asked, glancing around.

Atlanta looked almost guilty for a few seconds before she said, "Uh, I dunno. I couldn't find him. But, I'd like you not to tell him. I'll tell him. Promise?"

"Yes," the four chimed.

Pete had been absent when Lily had returned. Lily had said the same thing, she'd tell him when she found him. Clearly, Pete had vanished off the face of the Earth.

Atlanta paced in front of the blank wall three times before a door materialized. It looked different from the door created before. It was more elaborate. She opened the door, holding it open for them to enter. Sirius gasped when he entered the room. It was airy, with large simple windows. The floor was a light colored wood and there was rather modern looking furniture littering the space, but it was mostly clear floor.

It did not look like anything the wizarding world could dream up.

The slam of the door caused Sirius to jerk around. Atlanta walked across the floor, her footsteps echoing in the wide open space.

"This is the Room of Requirement," she announced. "Tom actually explained it to me. In my…past, I knew it could take on different forms, but did not understand how it worked. I only knew how to make the Room of Hidden Things appear. It's…full of junk that people have wanted to hide over the history of Hogwarts."

Pain shot through her eyes before she was able to push it away. That was the room she and Regulus hung out in when they didn't want to be found.

"Anyways, I felt this was the best space for y'all to meet Tom," she pushed on. "So, I guess without further ado…"

She rolled back the sleeve of her robe and shirt to reveal her forearm. Having seen her forearm bare on numerous occasions, Sirius was surprised to see a glittering green and silver snake tattoo wrapping around her arm. He wanted to sneer at it, as snakes were evil, but since he knew who Tom grew up to become, it made sense.

What really creeped him out was how comfortable she was transporting "Tom" around in her arm.

"I know you don't want to come out, but you're going to, brat," Atlanta hissed under her breath. "I'll use my wand."

Lily looked around, seemingly looking for "Tom." Sirius stared at her arm, knowing "Tom" was still in there. He could faintly see the magic in the tattoo and it was different from Atlanta's own magic. Sirius was never very good at seeing magic, which did not bother him, but for some odd reason when it came to whatever was in Atlanta's arm, he could see it. Kind of. More so than anything else he'd attempted to see magic in.

Atlanta pulled her wand out and pressed it into her right forearm, right over the center of the tattoo. She yanked it away, scrunching her face up in concentration. Magic poured out of her arm. Once she had control over it she threw it to her side and let it go out of her wand. A boy around fifteen materialized.

"This is Tom," Atlanta announced, as the boy studied them with dark eyes from behind his fringe.

He was tall, almost the same height as Atlanta. Unlike a ghost, he wasn't totally transparent and see through. He was in living color, only blurry around the edges. Sirius looked passed the Slytherin uniform he was wearing and took in his physical appearance. He was thin, but not scrawny. He was a gorgeous— aristocratic nose, chiseled cheekbones, great hair. No wonder his mother wanted to trap him in a sketchbook. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and seemed weary of the older teens gathered in front of him. The expression he wore made him look wiser and older than he appeared.

This was not how Sirius guessed Voldemort the Teenager would behave. While there was something defiant to him, at the same time he didn't seem evil. He didn't glare and scowl. He didn't, well, seem like the bad guy.

He was a teenage boy who reminded Sirius a little of Remus when he went into professor mode.

It was surreal.

"Hi, er, I'm James Potter," James started, pointing to himself.

Tom turned his head to him and stared for a moment before nodding.

"I'm Lily," Lily announced. She almost stuck her hand out but stopped half way, letting it fall to her side. "I hear you are the brains behind Atlanta's spells creating skills."

Flattering seemed to do something to the kid as he perked up a bit, standing up taller and holding his head up higher. He tossed his hair out of his eyes and met Lily's.

"We work together," he announced in a smooth, baritone with hints of aristocratic tones.

His voice was like…well, sex. Sirius glanced at Remus to see how he was taking it. Remus was white, staring with huge amber eyes at the ghost-like being standing next to Atlanta. Sirius turned his attention back to Lily.

"Oh, she did say that," Lily corrected herself, looking flustered. This was new. "She said you're a genius."

"A proper genius."

Well, the kid was full of himself. Like a proper Slytherin.

"Is there an improper genius?" James cheekily asked. He got a sideways glance from Tom, which caused James to back up a bit. The glance was rather cold and menacing.

"Shut up, Potter!" Lily snapped, causing Tom to smirk a bit. He turned his full attention to Lily. "I was wondering what you thought about the…Fidelius Charm."

The what?

The boy stared at Lily hard for a long beat. Sirius had no clue how Lily could remain meeting the kid's gaze, as Sirius fidgeted and the kid wasn't even looking at him. For a fourteen or fifteen-year-old his gaze was intense and uncomfortable. The power radiated from it. The longer Sirius remained in the kid's company, he could see the kid becoming Lord Voldemort. Leave him alone with enough pureblood maniacs, it'd happen.

"I find that it is flawed," he said, his tone careful. He cocked his head to the side, his hair moving out of his eyes.

"Why?"

"How much research have you done on the charm?"

Lily launched into her research on the charm, sighting that it was hardly ever cast or used because the secret is held within a soul and it is only used on a location.

"However, it's strong suit is the fact the secret cannot be forced out of the Secret Keeper by any means. It must be given freely," Lily finished. "I feel this can be improved upon, though. It should be able to hide more than a location. Locations are good to hide, but sometimes a person needs hiding."

"Correct," the boy agreed.

Atlanta suddenly tossed a box at him. He caught it and stared at her.

"What? Lily was the one who wanted to meet you. James only insisted the others meet you because Lily was meeting you. I bet she knows more about wards than I do," Atlanta said.

Sirius had no clue what they were talking about. It was clear by her tone she was tempting him.

"Wards?" Lily asked.

Or both of them. Atlanta gave off a Tom like smirk. At least Sirius knew she began smirking due to Tom, not his brother. Regulus had never smirked much.

The boy turned his attention to Lily and said, "Yes. Atlanta and I are looking into developing a ward, or spell, that would repel people who bare the Dark Mark."

"Genius," Lily breathed, her green eyes large.

James groaned and rolled his eyes. Lily and Tom began chatting, Tom keeping hold of the cube Atlanta tossed at him. Atlanta moved across the room and sat down on an odd looking chair. It was constructed out of circles and did not look comfortable.

"So, that's, er, Tom?" Remus asked, staring at the boy across the room who was debating with Lily. James was hovering near by, almost looking befuddled. "He seems to be able to work with Lily."

"This Tom doesn't hold the same ideals as the one y'all know," Atlanta explained, lowering her voice to hardly a whisper. "He's also lived with me for a year. While we still are at odds on many things, Tom can spot someone of equal intelligence. In this room, Lily Evans is by far the most powerful and smartest one here."

"More powerful than you?"

"By far."

"So, when did Voldy go bad?"

"Shhh."

"What?"

"He doesn't know, remember."

"You do realize he will figure it out someday," Remus said quietly, sitting on a clear chair across from Atlanta.

Atlanta shifted uneasily. "Well, we can't find anything on Tom Riddle, so he assumes he is dead or amounted to nothing, which pisses him off to no end. You should see his reaction to when he hears or reads something about Moldy Trousers and his movement. I can't tell him that's who he turns into. The fact Tom Riddle is Moldy Trousers isn't known where I come from. I don't think he'll find out till people start talking about the V word."

Sirius glanced across the room. Lily had taken a seat at a table that had appeared out of nowhere. Tom was oddly sitting on the chair, though he looked like he was careful not to touch the table. James was lurking over Lily's shoulder, getting the death eye from Tom every few seconds due to his hovering.

"He gets right pissed off each time he reads more on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Atlanta said quietly. "I don't say the V word around him because I think he was already toying with using that name when he was fifteen. I'm not sure, so I just don't use it. He understand the name is feared, so he doesn't ask who the person actually is. He out right hates the guy."

"How is he sitting on the chair and not falling through? I thought he wasn't solid," Sirius pointed out, still marveling at the fact Tom was seated.

"He's not. That cube I threw at him contains my magic. It allows him to exist without me. I'm pretty sure he put it on the chair and seeped some of my magic into the chair to make it solid for him. If my magic is embodied in objects, they become solid to him. I'm solid to him, vise versa."

"This is so…weird," Remus faintly muttered.

"I developed the cube. All by myself," Atlanta announced proudly. "Tom didn't help me one bit."

Remus chuckled, finally appearing like he wasn't going to faint. Sirius collapsed next to Remus in a chair that looked like it wasn't anything other than a rectangle and dropped his head in his boyfriend's lap. From his position he was able to keep an eye on Tom and Lily. He caught Tom's arms going through the table. Sirius let out a bark of a laugh.

"I never thought the first time I actually met him, he'd be embarrassed because his arms went through a table," Remus said from above his head, sounding like he was trying not to chuckle.

The whole afternoon was surreal. Especially when Tom actually smiled for the first time. He had smirked a few times, but when he actually smiled Sirius was sure he'd be able to end world wars by simply smiling.

"You know, I've heard rumors he no longer looks like that because he's so far gone into the Dark Arts," Sirius told Remus later that night.

"Who?"

"Tom."

"Oh. And why are you bringing this up?"

"Because. When he smiled, like when he actually smiled, I'm pretty sure he could cause Death By Smile if he really wanted to. Just smile, and the world would bow down to him."

Remus stared at Sirius blankly.

"What? He's good looking, so sue me," Sirius said, using a phrase Atlanta often used.

"I plan on it."

Sirius huffed in annoyance. Remus knew Sirius had no idea what "sue" meant, other than a shortened name for "Susan."

"I have a point."

"Smiling doesn't cause fear, Padfoot. Voldemort's whole goal is to rule through fear. No one would ever fear a smiling Tom Riddle."

"No, but they'd do what he wanted. Believe what he does," Sirius pointed out. "There is power behind appearance."

"Says the pretty boy," Remus mused. "Are you saying I couldn't control the world?"

"Oh, you could. You're quietly devious."

And Remus smiled that damn crooked smile that always made Sirius' insides melt.

* * *

"So, uh, what did y'all think of Tom?"

Atlanta lowered herself onto the bench next to Remus, looking between James, Lily and Sirius. The morning sunshine streamed in through the windows and the ceiling of the Great Hall reflected clear, deep blue skies.

"He was a prat!" James announced, throwing his arms into the air. "A complete, total prat."

Lily smacked James.

"He's not here," Atlanta offered. "I left him with the cube in the Room of Requirement."

"He was surprising," Lily said, turning her attention to Atlanta. "I was wondering, after we graduate, if I could help out with the projects the two of your are planning. I'm really interested in the, er, Cretin Munchers ward."

"Cretin Munchers? Is that what he's calling them now?" Atlanta mused, looking amused. "I don't see why you can't lend a hand. What are your plans after graduation any ways?"

Lily shifted and didn't meet her eyes. "I don't know. I want to go into healing, I think. I've got the OWLS."

"I'm sure you'll get the NEWTS," James said, squeezing her hand under the table.

Lily wasn't so sure, judging by her expression. Sirius leaned on his elbows and stared at Atlanta and Remus.

"I thought he was strange. I think he was acting like he wasn't, well, evil."

"He is not evil," Atlanta and Lily said together.

Sirius wasn't so sure Tom wasn't "evil" but there was something off about him. While he was clearly a teenage boy, there was the fact he'd sprung out of an evil notebook spelled by his insane mother and grew up to be Lord Voldemort.

"Anyways, I want to be a Healer," Lily went on loudly. "I think. I'm not sure."

"Well, I've no idea what I want to do other than make a lot of money," Atlanta announced.

"I thought you were going to be a Spellsmith?"

"Oh, yeah. They make a lot of money."

"Is that the only reason you let Tom talk you into it?" Lily gasped.

Atlanta shifted a bit. "Well, kind of. Custom made spells make one a butt load of gold. I have none. After I leave this joint, I'm out on my rear without a thing other than what is in my trunk."

The four all gaped at her. They continued till Peter sat down next to Atlanta, looking bemused.

"What's going on?"

Everyone snapped to attention quickly. Sirius glanced at Atlanta, who stared at Peter with a look Sirius could not place. He had this inkling she did not trust Peter fully and was not about to share Tom's existence with him. This annoyed Sirius, but it was her choice.

"I'm in it for the money," she said in a strange sounding accent.

Peter blinked at her.

"You do know they won't realize what that is from," Lily groaned.

"_Star Wars_," Atlanta offered. Sirius, James and Peter continued to look blank. "I don't think I sounded much like Harrison Ford though. More like Jack Nicholson. I don't know why."

"Still, love, don't know who that is," Sirius said while both Remus and Lily laughed.

"You're impression was horrible! For either of them."

By the time the group exited the Great Hall, everyone had forgotten to tell Peter about Tom Riddle, future Lord Voldemort who happened to sometimes hang out in Atlanta's arm, but was currently hanging out with a cube of magic in the Room of Requirements.


	24. Whispers from the Past

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I fail to own it. **

_A/N: This links with _Shattered_ and _History Keeps Pulling_. There are TWO Atlantas, only one thinks she's Calliope Riddle._

_Edited 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_Whispers from the Past_**

* * *

Today was a good day.

They had not seen Regulus Black.

While Tom was not overly fond of Regulus Black, he was a proper gentleman and kept Atlanta out of trouble. Without Black around, Tom feared for the girl's sanity. She spent an abnormal amount of time with Sirius Black, who was not a proper young man and had the maturity level of a five year old.

But, today was a good day.

There was no Sirius Black.

There also was no moping, no sobbing and all the Marauders had left for the holidays. Granted, this meant Lily Evans (the only person Tom could stand at the moment Atlanta associated with) was gone, but today was a superb day.

Today they were sequestered in the library, at a secluded table inside the Restricted Section. Tom had convinced Atlanta to get an all access pass to the Restricted Section from Slughorn. Tom, having skills in charm and wheedling things out of people, had fed her the words to flatter Slughorn to the point he handed over the all access pass. Slughorn was impressed with Atlanta, despite her dismal performance in Potions, so it wasn't all that hard.

Tom didn't understand what Atlanta's issue was with Potions. Even with Tom and Severus' help, she still wasn't very talented. At least she didn't blow things up.

Tom had no clue why the girl lacked the ability to make a potion. It was a mystery. She knew all the little details that would make her a world class Potions Mistress. Atlanta rationalized as it being she knew the talk, but failed to walk the walk.

Whatever that meant.

No, Slughorn was impressed with the her spell creating skills.

In around about way, he was mostly impressed by Tom Riddle.

Not that was surprising. Tom Riddle was impressive. Brillant. Clever.

Shaking his nonexistent head, he focused on something else.

His original goal for her all access pass was to look up how Walburga had made the blasted sketchbook in the first place in hopes it would lead to a way to de-bond their magic from one another, but the more they had researched it, the more Tom realized magic bonds were strong and irreversible.

Tom was forever tied to her magic. As long as there was a source of her magic to draw on, Tom would live. Forever.

Or whatever he was doing. He didn't eat or breathe, so he really wasn't living. His heart didn't beat, no blood pumped through his veins.

He did sleep, for some reason.

But, no, Tom Riddle was not alive, so he wasn't living. He was existing.

"Riddler, do you see this?"

Tom turned his focus from not looking through Atlanta's eyes to what she was reading. He hated residing in her arm, but he did not have much choice if he wanted to venture out in the world. She no longer had her own room— she'd been sorted into Ravenclaw at the start of the year per her agreement with Dumbledore when she'd arrived— so Tom spent an abnormal amount of time with Atlanta, as there was only so much time he wanted to spend the Room of Hidden Things.

Lately, he preferred to watch silently out her eyes. She couldn't hear his thoughts, or he hers. She only heard him when he spoke. If he kept his emotions in check she was hardly aware of him. He was like a silent observer on her life.

It'd been great till Regulus was an idiot.

Atlanta was unable to make herself feel anything less than at full blast, so since Regulus had come out as a Death Eater (honestly, what was with that name?) Tom had been blasted with every single emotion he found weak, horrible and not worth feeling.

Sentiment was weak, useless and pointless.

And yet, he felt it. It hurt and he did not understand.

She had not been surprised by the news. Tom had a feeling she had known Regulus had joined the Death Eater's for a while, but when Regulus finally admitted it to her and informed her of his "mission" to convert her, she'd snapped. Her heart broke, grief shot through her like a knife.

She'd said nothing to him, just stared. For the longest time she had sat there staring at Regulus, who wore a heart breaking expression, waiting for her reaction.

She fled.

She'd gotten into the Gryffindor Tower with help from Tom and threw herself into Remus Lupin's bed and cried her eyes out for hours till the others had shown up. Where the Marauders were, Tom was not sure. Nor was he sure why she'd run to them of all people.

When they had shown up, Tom was even more confused by the blast of emotions sent at him as she clung to Sirius Black.

After that, he gave up trying to sort his own emotions out from hers and managed to simply exist for the next twenty-four hours. She tore him out of her arm at that point, storing him in the cube of her magic. He had no idea how she'd done it, but after being blasted with every single emotion known to man he didn't care at all he basically ceased to exist, confined in a tiny cube.

That had been bliss.

He wasn't sure how many days passed when she pulled him out of the cube and put him back into her arm. She was calmer, but the emotions were still running rather high. She was disgusted with herself and was determined to act like nothing was wrong. Tom was sure he was the only person (thing) that knew she was an emotional mess still.

She then forced the Marauders on him, explaining Lily Evans wanted to work with Tom on wards. This had peaked Tom's interest, as from what he'd observed of Lily Evans she was a gifted witch. Even if she was a Muggleborn. Actually, it was a testament to the fact magic had nothing to do with bloodline that Lily Evans, a Muggleborn, was such a powerful witch.

And today Atlanta didn't seem to be an emotional wreck.

For the first time in a month.

Thus, it was a good day. They could get things done.

"Tom!" Atlanta hissed quietly. "I'm risking talking to myself to get your attention, you bugger. Listen."

"Sorry. I'm listening now. And looking. What am I looking at— passed you're reading a book on time travel…"

"This note. Look at it," she whispered, her eyes darting all over the place.

"Stop moving your eyes. I can only see what you see, remember?"

Her eyes stopped moving, locking onto the piece of paper. Tom read the note. It was in a pen and clearly written by a child.

_Congrats, Draak! I hope some of these spells will help, or something, as I'm totally over 1943. The boy who I landed on is an insane psychopath. Cheers, Siri_

"Interesting. Why does it concern you?"

"Draak. Means dragon. In I think Dutch…"

"That's great," Tom drawled.

"Dragon. Time travel. Draco. Dragon. Get it? It's code."

Tom thought for a moment, mentally frowning. "Did he call you Siri?"

"Well, no."

"The only person I know called Siri is Sirius Black. Only you and Lupin refer to him in that manner."

Atlanta didn't respond, but Tom could almost hear her thinking it was so loud.

"Tom. My middle name is Siria. Not Dorothy," Atlanta hissed, her eyes going to darting all over the place again. "What if this is from, well, my future self? The one that's not born yet? What if her nickname is Siri and she calls Malfoy…well, dragon in Dutch for some reason."

"I thought you were in an alternative universe?"

"Yeah, yeah. But, still? What if the other me, the younger me, also went back in time, to a point before now in this new timeline Malfoy created when he threw himself back?"

Tom thought it over, retreating away from looking out her eyes as it was giving him a headache. How he was able to get headaches was beyond him. He had no body and hardly felt anything physically, but sometimes looking out her eyes made his head hurt.

"It could happen, in theory. I was alive in 1943. I would have been sixteen."

"You're from 1941 or '42. You're at your tail end of your fourth year, or start of fifth, right?"

"That is our theory. I turned sixteen in 1942, on New Years Eve, so most of it I was fifteen. I think, in my current form I'm about fifteen. Or was fifteen. I look fifteen," Tom concluded. "And I had knowledge through my fourth year at Hogwarts. Very little of fifth. I did not take my OWLs."

Age wasn't something either of them got into in depth. Neither knew how old they currently were. Nor did they really pay much attention to the fact Tom had not actually finished his fifth year. He had completed sixth year easily and was working with Atlanta on seventh. If he ever got a body or got "home" he'd sit his exams and pass them without breaking a sweat.

"Dumbledore's theory is Malfoy used this. I am staring at the book right now," she whispered.

Tom moved to look through her eyes. He read the page she was on and told her to turn when he was ready.

"Interesting. A three stage potion for time travel," Tom murmured.

"Plus an ancient incantation," Atlanta added. "It makes sense. He had a vial and a piece of paper with him. And there was an empty, open box near by. And Malfoy, unlike _moi_, was good at potions. His godfather was a Potions Master. Or is. His godfather was my potions partner."

Tom mentally snorted. "Some good that's done you."

"I've helped him a lot."

"Yes. You've given him a mirage of tips, yet none of them help you for some reason," Tom drawled.

"Oh, hush. Anyways, what if the other me went back and is trapped in 1943?"

"Are you trying to un-trap yourself or her?"

Tom wasn't sure why they were seated in the Restricted Section reading time travel books. The whole reason he wanted her in the Restricted Section today was to learn more about wards. He was sure there was knowledge somewhere in the library that would aid them in creating a ward to keep people bearing that ugly mark out of people's homes. From reading the newspaper, this war forged by this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was getting worse. And from what Atlanta had told him, this megalomanic's followers all bore a mark on their left arm.

"I'm fine here. The future I knew died the moment Draco sent me here. If I go back to 1998, it'll be very different from how I left it. And there'd be two of me more than likely."

"Wouldn't time re-write itself around you?" Tom suggested. "I read that somewhere in some book you had."

"Oh, this one," she said, pulling another one towards her. "This guy is crackers. This guy in this book with the potion Malfoy used knows what he's talking about. He states that depending on the method used, you can go forward or backwards. When you only transport your soul…it's a oneway trip."

"But all of you went," Tom pointed out.

"Ah, but Draco sent only his soul. I was a happy accident," she offered. She turned a few more pages and went back to ready.

"Happy accident?" Tom dryly asked.

She sighed. "Tom, I might not be jumping for joy, my heart may hurt, but I wouldn't trade any of this. I'll take the heartache over going back to where I came from. I know you don't understand, but that's fine."

Tom did not understand. Love was yet another emotion he failed to grasp. He was fond of Atlanta, but he didn't love her. His feelings were no way as complex as what she felt when she looked at Regulus, thought about Regulus, or dreamed about Regulus.

Atlanta was the first person Tom could stand for long periods of time in his life that he did not want to whack over the head with a mallet. The first person he thought worthy of his company. While she had her flaws and annoyances, Tom depended on her not because he was tied to her. Her strange, unfamiliar manner of thinking and behaving inspired him. For the first time in his entire life he was not consumed by anger, or his quest to be more powerful, better than everyone around him. His anger and rage were almost gone. His need to control had wavered.

It scared him when he heard stories about the current Dark Lord, this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who Atlanta called Moldy Trousers. The man sounded almost exactly what Tom had envisioned himself becoming, only not as…ruthless. The goals the man stated, his methods…all sounded eerily familiar.

Tom Riddle mentally shuddered.

The fact someone like Regulus was _following_ the man made Tom feel sick. He knew Regulus was a confused child, torn between doing what his heart wanted and what his family wished for him to do, but why any mother would want her son to devote his life to the shadows was unfeasible to imagine. This Dark Lord was a terrorist. While Tom did not _like_ Muggles, exterminating and subjugating them wasn't the answer. Ignoring Muggles was best. Introducing Muggleborns to wizarding society before age eleven was the way to go, not to kill them. Some of them were more magically powerful than the purebloods.

And no wizard or witch ought to be LEFT in a Muggle orphanage.

That was a point both Atlanta and Tom agreed on. Their political views were not similar in the least, but neither was extreme. They both fell between the two extremes, just at other ends of the middle. This led to good debates when they were alone.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to write another note on this paper. To Malfoy."

"Why?"

"Because. When I'm done, I'm going to leave this book here for him to find in the future. I think it'll help him understand time travel. I'm sure he doesn't know what he got himself into. Changing time is hard. Fixed points in time, yet you can rewrite time, rework it? I tried to change so many things, but nothing is changing."

"You now think you've time travelled?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Fine," Tom said. "What are you doing?"

"Going to the room. I'm going to get myself out of 1943 and send her back to where ever she came from."

* * *

Tom and Atlanta were in the Room of Requirement. It was a basic rendition of a sitting room might find in the guest quarters at Hogwarts. Atlanta was practicing the spell she and Tom had worked on the past two weeks, improving the time spells in the book that did not work. It was no wonder everyone thought the author of the book was a crackpot. None of his spells worked because they were all missing key elements. Any idiot could see that.

"I think you have it down," Tom informed her, standing across the room from her. It was as far as he could get when there was no magic of hers in the room other than her. "But you're going to need a lot of power to pull off two time spells in one go. And I doubt your younger self knows me or will leave in a timely manner if she sees me."

"Point, Riddler. In the arm."

She held out her arm. Tom felt the pull and let himself go. The next time he opened his eyes, he was in Atlanta's arm and staring out her eyes.

"All right, here goes."

Tom felt her nerves and tried to make her calm down with his own emotional calmness.

"Thanks." She took a deep breath. "_Atlanta Black Novedecim Quadraginta Duo Gratia Nunc Proxferoiam."_

Magic poured out of her wand as she slashed it through the air in the complicated wand motions. Tom poured his magic into the spell, loving the reeling of rushing power surge through him and into Atlanta. The space in front of them bent and glowed. The grey, black and white magic swirled around and there was a rushing wind that blew all through the room. Atlanta closed her eyes for a moment till the wind settled.

"Explain. Now."

The snappy, posh British accent got Tom's attention. Atlanta opened her eyes, pushing her hair out of her face. Standing in front of them was a child, maybe eleven or twelve, in Slytherin robes from Tom's era. She had curly black hair, very pale skin and ruby red lips. She held herself like the pureblood witches of Slytherin.

There was something…wrong with this child. Tom had no clue what exactly, but she might kind of look like Atlanta Black, but she was not Atlanta Black.

"I told you to explain to me what I am doing here. Now," she ordered in a very familiar tone.

"Who are you?" Atlanta asked. "Are you Atlanta Black?"

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted Atlanta Black. You kinda look like I did when I was eleven, but…"

Atlanta trailed off. Tom couldn't pin point what her emotions were, so he wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"I can assure you I am not this Atlanta Black person," the young girl assured the older girl.

"Who are you?"

"I am Calliope Riddle."

If Tom could, he would have fainted.

"Are you? Do you happen to have a brother?"

The girl sniffed, looking away. "Yes."

"I do not have a sister!" Tom shouted in Atlanta's head. "There is no way for me to have one! My mother died giving birth to me."

"Half sister?" Atlanta asked

"Oh," Tom responded faintly.

"How do you know? Is he famous?" Calliope Riddle asked, responding to Atlanta's question.

Now that he was looking at girl, he could see certain traits that were similar to his. The lips. He had annoyingly red lips like hers. He always thought they were much too feminine for a boy to have. And the girl's fingers. Those absurdly long, slender fingers. The girl's hair was curlier, not how the un-glamoured hair of Atlanta Black curled, though. This girl had neat curls, black as night.

But the neatness of the curl was a lot like Tom's.

She was also bleeding some rather familiar looking magic.

"She does have a few traits that I do," Tom admitted. "The more I look at her, the more she looks similar to me."

"Yeah, I noticed. But…she's me."

"How do you know?"

"Who are you speaking to?" Calliope Riddle demanded, pointing her wand at Atlanta.

It was not the same wand Atlanta Black currently had in her hand. Atlanta stared at her own wand and back at the wand pointed at her.

"I might be a first year, but I know a lot more magic than the average first year."

"No doubt," Atlanta muttered. "I can feel my own magic in her. And yours."

"Let me out."

Atlanta rolled her sleeve up, ignoring the demands of the younger girl and pulled Tom out of her arm. The younger girl gasped loudly and cried, "T.M.! What are you— what _are_ you?"

"That is up for debate. I do not remember you, but I can see the similarities between you and I. I'm…fifteen."

"Ah. I did not find you until you were sixteen."

"And how did you find me?"

She launched into a long story that involved an affair, living in France and her mother dying and her searching for her family and finding Tom in an orphanage by chance. Tom and Atlanta listened, both exchanging looks with one another. Tom asked her after she was done if they could try something. He allowed his magic to reach out for the child and he instantly felt himself wrap around her and the pull was instant. He quickly pulled away.

"She has my magic, my blood in her, but she has yours as well. I think…"

Atlanta hurried over to the girl and grabbed her left arm. The girl tried to wretch her arm out of Atlanta's grip, but Atlanta pulled the robe back and exposed a long, snake like scar from the child's wrist to her elbow. Calliope claimed it was from a childhood accident, but Tom would know that scar anywhere.

He had been debating on using that as a way to mark his followers in the future. He doodled it on everything.

"Addy," Tom said quietly as she let the girl go. The child backed up against the wall and stared at the pair wearily. Tom felt an emotion well up he could not place. "I think I did something terrible to you."

"Tom, you did not do this. The actual you did this," Atlanta said. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can leave you two here, right? You won't go poof?"

"No, her magic will tether me," Tom said, still staring at the child.

Atlanta nodded. "I'll be back. I'll grab Dumbledore."

Calliope made a face as Atlanta left the room. Tom stared at the child.

"Tee, what is going on. Tell me now. Did I travel through time? I shouted something at you about time ," Calliope said, looking more at ease left alone with him. "I've been having these dreams. I dream of this terrible monster and I remember things that have yet to happen. Yet, there's this voice that keeps whispering that time can be rewritten. I keep dreaming you turned into a monster, not a glorious."

"Excuse me?" Tom asked.

She looked scared and began to backing away. Tom took small steps in order to not get too far away. She bit her bottom lip hard and refused to meet his eyes, backing up till she hit the wall. Tom stopped walking, realizing his error.

"I'm not him," Tom suddenly said. "I'm not the same person you have been dealing with."

She looked up at him, searching his face.

"No, you're not," she quietly conceded. Looking curious, she asked, "Do you know who Lord Voldemort is?"

"It is a name I was playing around with."

"What year is it?"

"1977," Tom replied.

"Who is the current Dark Lord?"

"Someone they refer to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Tom replied.

Calliope Riddle stared at him with huge amber eyes flecked with dark blue specks.

"I knew that," she breathed.

And like that, Tom realized what he'd done to the girl.

He'd bound them together through their blood, mixing blood and magical abilities. It was almost like blood adoption, only darker. He must have also altered her memories, implanting the Calliope Riddle persona within Atlanta. And for the change of behavior to be so…he must have cleared her mind and turned her into a blank slate.

Only it hadn't worked properly. Atlanta was fighting back, hence the dreams. Hence the random knowledge the child did not understand.

"T.M.?"

"Don't call me that. Please, call me Tom."

Her eyes went even wider, if that was possible. "You'd rather me call you by your given name?"

Tom stood up taller. "Yes."

"All right," she said slowly. "Who was that older girl? Who is she?"

"Atlanta Black."

"Am I still in Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

Calliope Riddle fell silent and stared at the floor. Tom was not sure how much time passed before he heard the door open. Due to the fact he did not want Dumbledore to see him, he hid behind the couch before Dumbledore had a chance to enter.

He heard Dumbledore gasp.

"Miss Riddle? Is that really you?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," was the polite reply. "This girl had pulled me out of the past and brought me here because she claims I'm Atlanta Black. Or something."

Atlanta cleared her throat. "It is me."

Dumbledore was quiet for a long time.

"I have no doubt it is you, Miss Black," Dumbledore finally replied. "I thought you were Miss Riddle when you first arrived, though there were several things off about your appearance. I believe we best go to my office. Miss Riddle? If you could follow me, we'll start looking into getting you home."

"Was T.M. upset when I disappeared?"

"Mr. Riddle's wrath was something to behold," Dumbledore murmured.


	25. Writing the Future

**Disclaimer: "Yesterday" was written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon. "Over the Rainbow" music by Harold Arien and lyrics by E.Y. Harburg. After that, if you know it, I still fail to own it. **

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_Writing the Future_**

* * *

Never in his life had Dumbledore imagined that he would be faced with two Atlanta Blacks. Luckily, Atlanta had chosen to bring Calliope Riddle— who was in fact a younger version of Atlanta Black— to the future during Christmas break, so the castle was almost empty.

Dumbledore had always been suspicious of what really occurred when Calliope Riddle had gone missing over the summer, a month before term began. She and Tom had vanished one evening. Tom turned up the next morning and reported Calliope missing.

The girl who returned was not Calliope Riddle, not the girl Dumbledore had gotten to know since he had brought her to Hogwarts along with Tom. The girl who "got her memories back" was not Calliope Riddle. She was different, more like Tom. She no longer sung, no longer was the easy going, fun loving little girl Dumbledore had become fond of.

She was mini-Tom.

Then she began changing, slowly. The last time Dumbledore had seen Calliope Riddle, she was yelling lyrics to a song she'd written over the summer at Tom in a crowded hallway. It seemed like something the old Calliope would have done, not the mini-Tom version.

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Calliope as she sat in front of him. She shifted uneasily, gripping the arms of the chair. Dumbledore knew she did not care for him, as she had the same dislike her older brother had for him. There were warring emotions in her eyes, though. She looked at Atlanta.

"Yes."

"I'm not going to do anything except look," Dumbledore said, glancing up at Atlanta Black, who was standing behind Calliope's chair, appearing uncomfortable.

Dumbledore raised his wand and cast the spell silently.

Diving into Calliope's mind, he was rather surprised to find it ordered.

No eleven-year-old ordered his or her mind in this manner, Dumbledore thought.

Dumbledore found himself in a library. It wasn't very large and only contained ten short aisles. He began walking up and down each aisles. He investigated the books and noted the titles were all memories, each row corresponding to however old Calliope happened to be. He touched one, and witnessed a few of her childhood memories.

They were fake. Good fakes, but fake nonetheless.

He went through each year and discovered her entire childhood was fake.

He stood near the row for age ten and noticed an ornate door. He opened the door and moved into another room. It looked like the Slytherin Common room, only it was littered with boxes. He looked in the boxes, finding the memories that matched up with her time in 1943. He saw her explode out of the diary, landing on top of Tom, only she looked different.

Calliope Riddle looked…more like how he would imagine a Black child to appear at age eleven. A Black and Lupin child. He went through the first box, which seemed to contain memories that matched up with what Dumbledore remembered of that summer. He stared at those clear amber eyes, so much like Remus Lupin's.

Atlanta Black had those same eyes under her glamours.

Dumbledore made a catalogue of the other physical changes as he shifted through the pre-amnesia memories.

Her skin was darker, more golden from her time in the sun.

Her hands weren't as slim and fingers weren't as long.

Her hair was a wild mess.

The box ended rather suddenly.

Closing the box, he moved onto the next one. It was marked Late August. He opened that and found all her memories from after she'd been returned to Hogwarts after getting "lost."

Dumbledore gasped when he witnessed the first memory Calliope.

Calliope was on a couch in the Slytherin Common Room, an ugly scar on her left arm. She frowned at it, speaking with Tom, who assured her she always had that scar. Dumbledore took a closer look at the scar and realized it couldn't have gotten there on accident.

It looked like a snake.

Dumbledore replayed the memory, watching Tom's face.

Tom looked much too pleased with himself.

Dumbledore closed the box and began looking around the room, wondering where Atlanta Black had hidden herself. While Dumbledore was pretty sure Tom had done a tabula rosa spell on the child, he had a little hope from a few times she noticed Calliope acting more like herself, or saying things that sounded a little off that her old personality and memories were still intact. After going through the boxes that littered the room, he concluded none of the boxes were Atlanta Black's memories.

Spotting a mirror, Dumbledore walked over to it. This mirror wasn't actually in the Slytherin Common room. He reached out and opened it up. There was a slide, bright yellow, leading down into the darkness. He slid down. He landed on something soft and bright orange. He looked around and noticed a tiny door. Bending down, he used a gnarled finger to push it open. He peeked in and found what he assumed an eleven-year-old's mind would look like: organized chaos.

"Professor Dumbledore!" came a Southern sounding American accent.

There was suddenly face in the doorway. One that looked familiar, only because Dumbledore had viewed the pre-amnesia memories. Bright amber eyes stared back at Dumbledore from under too long black-colored fringe. Dumbledore stared, taking note of just how much the child looked like a combination of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

It was uncanny.

"You found me! This is my second attempt at hiding myself from Merv. I decided the 'M' stood for Merv," Atlanta Black, age eleven, announced.

Tom Merv Riddle. Dumbledore tried hard not to laugh.

"He's tried to kill me twice now. But he FAILED! Granted, he got some of my memories. Like I don't know how I got there, or what I did once I was there, but I know he's Lord Voldemort. I figured that out. I remember that!"

"Very good, Call— Atlanta," Dumbledore said.

"Can I come out now?"

"No. I think you best stay in this room you've made here. Calliope…this is very tricky," Dumbledore said.

"Because I'm technically two people?"

"Yes. And if I bring down the barriers you built to shield yourself and protect yourself, you both could go insane," Dumbledore explained. "Or loose all your memories. Both Calliope's and yours."

Atlanta frowned. "I don't want to be insane. Most people think I'm kind of insane already. Or loose any memories."

Dumbledore hummed. "I do not know how to meld you two together, as I do not know what Tom exactly did to you. Did you mean to bleed some of your knowledge into Calliope's memories?"

Atlanta shook her head. "No. Something happened and I woke up. I was trapped in this room. I left through that door and realized the person I was in was hurt….I don't know what happened, but I gave her a few songs to sing. I mean, she felt kind of like me, but she didn't look much like me."

Dumbledore nodded, remembering that instance. It had greatly upset Tom when he stumbled upon Calliope singing. Dumbledore did not understand at the time, but now he did. Tom did not want her singing, as that was something Atlanta did, not Calliope.

"Might as I ask when you are exactly from. When I first met you, you stated you were from fifty years in the future and exploded out of a book. I did see that memory," Dumbledore offered.

"Oh, I'm actually from 1992. I think…Octoberish. I don't remember the actual date," Atlanta admitted. "And I'm not really related to Tom Riddle. Or at least I hope not. I don't think we ever told you that we weren't actually related."

"No, you did not. I thought you had told me your actual name."

She shook her head. "No. While we were sitting in the waiting room, I realized I shouldn't have even told Riddle my real name. Mr. Remus taught me about time travel. Never tell the future. Never tell your real name. Make things up."

"Mr. Lupin taught you about time travel?"

"It was a game, actually. We'd pretend— when I was really little mind ya— we'd traveled back in time and we had to figure out how to not influence the timeline."

"Hmmm. Well, I must go. I will look into a way to let you out," Dumbledore said.

He waved to the child and withdrew from Calliope's mind. She was fast asleep when Dumbledore opened his eyes. Atlanta Black, the elder, stood behind her younger body, looking alarmed. Dumbledore almost wanted to take off her glamours to compare her to the eleven year old he had just spoken to, but he refrained. He had forgotten how much of the Lupin features he had noticed and had covered up.

"She's asleep," Dumbledore explained to the worried looking older girl. "I do not know how to let Atlanta Black out without causing great damage to both. Mr. Riddle did a very complex memory spell to turn her into a blank slate, then implanted memories and bound her to him. The implanted memories are tied to her blood, as is her personality and identity of Calliope Riddle."

"How do you know?"

"I viewed a memory. Mr. Riddle looked much too smug and she has a scar on her left arm. It was fresh."

Atlanta fell into the chair next to her younger self and stared at him, mouth open.

"So, there's no way I can be, I mean, she can be who she used to be?"

"Not that I know of," Dumbledore said. "At the moment, Mind Healing isn't very advanced. It will take years for anyone to figure out how to meld the two together."

"That's all we can do, meld them together? She'll never be who she once was?"

"Miss Black, as we age, we change. We become new people with every new experience we have," Dumbledore said kindly. He thought for a moment what he should say next.

"Yeah. I guess this is something major in her life."

"Yes. Melding the two together would be the best solution. I believe if we send her back as she is, with a little of Atlanta bleeding into her subconscious, she should be all right. I believe in fifteen years, there might be a solution to stabilize her mind."

"She's not stable?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "From what I witnessed, Calliope was already descending into madness. There were two instances where Tom was very upset with how she was behaving. The first instance happened over the holiday break. I heard singing. When Calliope first arrived, she loved to sing. She was very musical and had a great power behind her voice. Then, she vanished for a while, returned with no memory and did not sing any longer."

"I don't sing."

"That version of you did. Often," Dumbledore said, indicating to Calliope. "You have this power, you were never nurtured to develop it when you were young."

Atlanta nodded, wearing Think Face.

"One evening, I followed the noise and saw Tom having a minor freak out. He ran off, looking frightened. Tom Riddle did not usually appear frightened. Up till that point, I did not believe he could feel fear."

Dumbledore studied Calliope Riddle.

"Tom watched her like a hawk for weeks after that, but nothing happened from what I could tell till the last day I saw Calliope Riddle. She was shouting at him. It was familiar, what she was shouting. Before her memory loss, she had written a song. She was always humming, singing or working on this song. Then, she forgot about it. I tried to get her to remember it, but she never did. I'm very sure those were the lyrics she was shouting at Tom in the hall. The last part of the song she shouted was, 'And his love will conquer all.'"

Atlanta furrowed her brow.

"Tom questioned who this he was, to which Calliope replied he'd yet to meet him," Dumbledore offered.

Atlanta Black gasped. "Oh my god. His love will conquer all…HARRY!"

She threw her hands up in the air.

"The Harry you knew?"

"Well, it makes sense she knows him too. God, I figured that out already? I didn't really ever understand it. I still don't. But, you always told Harry that it was the fact he could love and be loved that made him more powerful than Moldy Trousers," Atlanta said.

Dumbledore snorted at the nickname she'd given Voldemort.

"Harry's love will conquer. Deep. Esepcially for me. At eleven."

"I think you are two very different people, Miss Black. The little girl I met in her head is not what I assume you were like at eleven."

"What was she like?"

"Loud, care free, forward and full of life. Her hair was never in place, always all over the place and her fringe forever in her eyes. She was not pulled together, polished or any of the things I feel you would have been at eleven."

"You're right."

"And she was always singing or humming," Dumbledore added.

"I never did that. I like to sing, but I never had lessons. I can't play anything," Atlanta muttered. She got a contemplative look on her face.

"I believe I will call Poppy to have her take Miss Riddle to the Hospital Wing. Am I right in thinking you can tweak those spells in that book I noticed lying on the floor in the Room of Requirement?"

Atlanta colored and nodded. "I'll need the date to send her back to."

"Well, she stated she was from 1992," Dumbledore replied. "Around October. However, since she has finished her first year, and passed with flying colors, I think it best to send her back around the holidays, so there are not as many students at the school."

"Good thinking."

"Oh, Miss Black?"

"Yes?"

"I believe Mr. Lupin has returned from break early."

* * *

Two days before the rest of the school was scheduled to return from winter break, Dumbledore heard a piano playing. Walking down the corridor, he entered a not often used wing that had housed music classes when Hogwarts still offered those sorts of things. It was a tragedy when there was no longer any interest in musical magic shortly before Dumbledore began teaching. It was really a lost art.

Coming to a stop, he heard three different voices. One was mild, scratchy and clearly male. One was a child's voice— aristocratic— and the other was female— smooth, melodious and very American.

"You remember that one?" Atlanta Black asked.

"Of course. What is it?"

"'Yesterday' by the Beatles."

"Beetles?"

A few chords of a tune played out on the piano. He heard a sigh.

"That is very pretty," Calliope Riddle said. "What are the worlds?"

Dumbledore heard a bench pull out.

"Sing and play."

The melody played yet again.

"_Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away," _sung a rich tenor voice._ "Now it looks as though they're here to stay, oh, I believe in yesterday. Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me, oh, yesterday came suddenly." _

The melody began to play at a higher octave.

"_Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday."_

The singing stopped and a few notes were hit wrong. The melody played again, then again in the higher octave.

"Yes, that's right," Remus Lupin said, encouragement in his voice.

The man was meant to be a professor. Dumbledore bit back a sigh. Alas, poor Remus would never be accepted as a professor. Best he could hope for was a private tutor of an open minded family.

"What's the next verse?"

_"Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away, oh, I believe in yesterday," _Remus sung.

"Then it you repeat the why she and the verse just sung," the elder girl offered.

Dumbledore let his mind wander as he listened to the two play the piano. He sort of recognized the melody they were playing as a Muggle tune that had been popular a few years back. He was so lost in thoughts, he didn't notice at first when the piano stopped.

"Look! Oh, this is amazing."

"What is that?" Atlanta Black asked her younger self.

"It's a ukulele. You ought to know what it is, you're American," Remus joked. "They're from Hawaii. It's their interpretation of the machete."

"A small guitar-like instrument that's related to the cavaquinho, braguinha, and the rajo," Calliope rattled off. "It's adorable. It kind of looks almost like the guitar someone transfigured for me when I broke my nose and Riddle took me to St. Mungo's. Or, well, I took myself and he followed."

Dumbledore listened carefully.

"So, er, do you know how to play, then?" Remus asked.

Calliope answered the question by playing a tune for them. Dumbledore did not know it, but it felt familiar.

"I love that song," Atlanta sighed.

"Of course you do," Remus commented. "Isn't that your…er, dog's name?"

"Toto? Yes."

"You have a dog?" Calliope asked.

"At home," Atlanta lied.

Atlanta had no home, other than Hogwarts. Dumbledore wondered what Remus meant by that. Maybe it was her secret Marauder name? Dumbledore was aware the other four boys all had animal like nicknames for some odd reason.

The melody started up again. Calliope encouraged the older girl to sing. Remus began to play along on the piano (Dumbledore assumed it was Remus playing, as Atlanta had stated she had no musical talents). Suddenly, a rich, mezzo-soprano voice filled the room. Dumbledore felt the magic seep out, swirl around lightly as it escaped the room. Atlanta's voice magic looked different from her younger self, as it was much less developed.

It was also white, as opposed to the grey of her younger self.

_"Some where over the rainbow, way up high. There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby,"_ the older Atlanta sung. _"Somewhere over the rain bow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true."_

Smiling to himself, Dumbledore turned and walked back in the other direction. He had a feeling, Atlanta Black would make sure Remus Lupin taught her younger self music now.

* * *

Calliope Riddle looked browbeaten and lost. It was understandable, as she was in a state of flux, lost between Calliope Riddle and Atlanta Black. The poor child was in the mists of a major identity crisis. The last week she'd been awake and socializing with Atlanta Black and Remus Lupin had caused more of the Atlanta Black she had been to seep into her conscious mind.

Calliope Riddle also was desperate to know what had happened to her brother. In the past week, she had found a lot. While Remus and Atlanta were in class, Calliope hid in the library, reading old newspapers, trying to find Tom Riddle, but all she found was Lord Voldemort.

"I tried to warn him," Calliope whispered, staring out the large window in Dumbledore's office. "The last time I saw him. I tried to warn him. I don't think he got it."

"I do think he understood," Dumbledore said. "I spoke with him right after you left. He did something to himself as he stood there seething. While I have no idea what your warning meant, why you told him love would conquer all or he could rewrite time, in the days to come, he had no idea what had happened. He knew he was upset, he knew he was angry with you, but I could tell he had no idea why."

"Did he _Oblivate_ himself?"

"No, I do not think he did."

"Did you?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her, studying her as he sat in his chair behind his desk, turned towards the window where she stood, hands clasped behind her back. Her posture and stance spoke of Tom Riddle, the boy who was no more.

"I did not."

Calliope cringed and turned around. "Sorry, sir. I have…warring feelings about you."

Dumbledore extended his head in understanding. "I understand. In Tom's case, I believe he did a…mind exercise that removed the information from his mind. Judging by the state of your own mind, I'm positive he was already studying and mastering Occlumency. He was clearly proficient at mind spells and to be, one needs a well organized mind. Calliope Riddle's mind is organized, while Atlanta Black's is…natural."

Calliope's stance changed again and she looked curious.

"So, you are saying he basically took the file marked FIGHT ABOUT THE FUTURE and threw it out?"

"In simple terms, yes."

"So he totally missed my warning," Calliope sighed, turning back around. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. "I didn't understand the warning at all. It had something to do with the baby."

"What baby?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. I don't have access to all of Atlanta Black's memories. I just have random things that bleed into my own mind. Since I do not know this Occlumency thing, but my mind it organized, I feel very confused. I guess these things do not have a place in my head to be stored, so they float around or something."

"They have their own room," Dumbledore offered. "I believe when you reach the your correct place in time, someone will teach you Occlumency. I believe that is the only way you will be able to be who Tom has forced you to become."

"Calliope Wren Riddle and Atlanta Siria Black," Calliope sighed deeply. "There is not way for me to simply revert?"

"No. You will need to organize Atlanta Black and integrate her into what Tom left you with."

"So, I'll have to go to St. Mungo's?"

"Yes. I believe I will put you into a magical coma till we can get you a teacher once you return," Dumbledore offered. "I'm afraid it's a rare skill and you are rather…fragile if you remain awake any longer."

"When am I going back to 1992?"

"Soon. Miss Black is working on the spell to send you to the future. She is rather gifted with spells. Are you good at Charms?"

"Yes. Charms is easy for me," Calliope reminded Dumbledore. "Potions is another story."

There was a knock on his office door. Dumbledore rose and indicated to the child to a have a seat. She crossed the room and sat down.

"Enter."

The door open and Atlanta walked into the room. She was holding a rather large book under her arm.

"I've got it. We can send her to the future at any time," Atlanta said, glancing at the child.

"I want to go home," the girl said. "I'm ready. I have bid farewell to Remus."

Dumbledore glanced down at Calliope. She steeled herself, standing and picking up the bag she had brought from 1943 with her. The two girls stood together and quietly discussed something. The younger girl nodded a few times. She reached out and grabbed the older girl's hand. She looked to be assuring the older girl, who smiled gravely. The younger girl gently gripped the older girl's right forearm and said something, then turned to Dumbledore.

"I'm ready to go now."

"All right. I will see you shortly then. Miss Black, are you sure you are able to do this spell on your own?"

"Yes, sir. I got her here and it was my full intention to send her back to where she belongs," Atlanta said.

Dumbledore inclined his head. He normally would not trust a student with a task this dangerous, but Atlanta Black was a talented witch, strong and on her way to becoming the youngest Master Spellsmith in quite some time. He was sure she could use this instant as a way to even get her mastery.

"It was nice to see you again, Calliope. And, as I stated earlier, I will see you shortly."

She gave him a smile and turned to Atlanta. "Thank you. I don't know what would have wound up happening to me if you'd left me with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Atlanta made an odd movement with her head, like she was reacting to a loud noise. Her left hand jerked towards her right forearm and she closed her eye tightly.

"You're welcome," Atlanta said in a tight voice.

"I am sorry. He needed to know," Calliope added quietly, looking sorry. "I don't think he has willing put it together."

"You ready, dude?" Atlanta asked, still clutching her forearm. She still looked like someone was shouting loudly in her ear.

"I am not a dude. I'm a dudette," the younger girl said, smiling. She pulled her school bag closer to herself and gave a kurt nod of her head, hiding her fear in a practice manner.

Atlanta waited a moment. She lifted her wand and smiled at Calliope one last time.

"_Atlanta Black Erga Novedecim Nonaginta Duo Mittofurttas ad Draco."_

The magic swelled in the room and Dumbledore felt it deep within his bones. It made his hair stand on end. Such power in someone so young. It was a strange combination of Light and Dark power. He felt that there were almost two magical beings doing the spell in front of him. He felt his long beard blow over his shoulder and his hat fall off his head. Between the light and wind, his eyes closed. When he opened them, the office was calm, Atlanta Black was panting a bit and holding onto the chair next to her and the other child was gone.

"Well, I hope she made it," Atlanta said, staring at the spot in front of her. "I hate Lord Voldemort. I seriously hate him."

She jerked her head to the side, wincing again.

"True. But, at least you understand his fascination with you now, do you not?"

The girl turned towards Dumbledore, a worn expression on her face.

"It is not for your impressive power, that is just an added bonus. No, Tom wants his sister back," Dumbledore replied. "The girl admitted to telling him her real name, so he knows it is you."

"His fake sister," Atlanta spat. "He really turned into a monster, didn't he?"

"He did, indeed," Dumbledore responding, thinking it was a little strange for her to phrase it in that manner.

"When do you think the turning point happened? At what age?"

Dumbledore thought this an odd question to ask, but decided to answer. He had an strange sense she was asking these questions not for herself, but someone else.

"Tom was always rather dark and troubled. He never understood how to interact with other people as himself. He hid behind masks and characters he created. I believe I was the only professor to see the real Tom Riddle, as he was careful and on guard when he arrived at school. So it is hard to pin point, but, I believe after he opened the Chamber of Secrets in the spring of his fifth year and committed his first murder…" Dumbledore trailed off when he saw the odd expression on Atlanta's face. She looked as if she was in pain or being screamed at. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah. So, sixteen. The point of no return was sixteen," she stated. "Sixteen."

Dumbledore nodded. "No one stopped him. Mistakes were made and he traveled down a very dark path. No one now knows that Voldemort is Tom Riddle, the handsome, charming boy who used to stalk these halls."

Atlanta raised her left hand, placing it on her right forearm.

"Do you think, in the future, Voldemort will go after her? The other Atlanta? Er, Calliope?"

"I'm afraid he will. Just as much as he plans to go after your Harry," Dumbledore said.

She looked troubled. He was sure she was going to try to prevent Voldemort from meeting his goals and targeting this child named Harry, but before she said anything else, she flinched and made a flimsy excuse to leave. Since she looked unwell, Dumbledore let her go without a fuss. He would speak to her later.

Sighing, Dumbledore rested his face in his hands. There was much work to do. He had a war to wage against Tom, research to do for a poor girl whose life Tom attempted to destroy for his own goals and a school to run.

Maybe he ought to retire?


	26. Setting Fire to Time

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. If it doesn't make sense, hopefully it will later.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_Setting Fire to Time_**

* * *

This was what his life was reduced to: staring.

She ignored him at every turn. Refused to meet his eye. Refused to acknowledge that he was a living, breathing human being.

Hate. She told him she hated him.

Then she behaved as if he did not exist.

As far as he knew, he was in fact invisible. No one spoke to him any more. All that was left was for him to observe, watch.

Hopefully that would gather enough information for the Dark Lord.

It wouldn't be enough.

Nothing was ever good enough for Dark Lord Smurf.

The thought stabbed him in the gut. He'd say it'd stab him in the heart, but he was pretty sure she'd stolen that.

* * *

The eyes were on her again. It was the same every day. The cesious colored eyes burned holes through the space between the table till they set fire to her head.

She failed to feel it.

Steven Moffat, Muggleborn extraordinaire, could not figure out for the life of him how she lived with those eyes constantly attempting to set her on fire.

"It's just there are these fixed points in time. Big events that have to happen no matter what," Atlanta Black was saying while not bothering to notice the fact Regulus Black was setting her hair ablaze.

It would go up in smoke, poof! Instantly, as hair was highly flammable. Steven had set fire to his hair on accident a few times since entering the magical world.

"Time is actually sentient in a sense. It knows what these fixed points are and it will stop at nothing to keep them happening. All the little events are changeable," Atlanta went on, flipping pages in a notebook she carried with everywhere that was this intense blue color. "What you wear, what you eat for dinner, who you talk to, how you manage to discover the fact your DADA professor is harboring the soul of Voldemort in the back of his head, the exact manner in which you save the planet while you try to figure out which bow tie to wear to the debate you plan on having with the alien invaders…"

Steven quirked an eyebrow. He jotted down her last sentence in his own notebook. That might work for something. Since entering the magical world, he could not figure out for the life of him why there weren't more fiction books written. The whole place was littered with plot bunnies just waiting to leap into something more.

Inspiration at every turn.

"But, the fixed points…you can't change those damn fixed points. They'll happen no matter what."

Atlanta let out a huff, her pen clattering to the table and allowed her head to fall into her hand. Her bottom lip stuck out as she stared into space. She absently stirred her now cold tea with her index finger.

"What is a fixed point?" Steven asked. "The concept of fixing a point in time seems sort of strange."

"Fixed meaning it MUST happen at all costs and Time— this bat crazy lady in a box— will make sure it happens," Atlanta offered, her eyes drifting towards the Slytherin table. This meant they rolled clear to the side, as her back was to the table she wanted to look at. If she had eyes in the back of her head, she'd be able to stare at Regulus as intensely as he stared at her.

She always sat with her back to him.

More than likely because of his staring. Or she did not want to temp herself.

"Statues are creepy," Steven announced.

Atlanta's eyes snapped to him. "What? That is random, even for you, Moffat."

"But they are. Don't you think they sometimes move? Like when you blink and they move a wee bit?"

Atlanta picked her head up out of her hand and sat up straight. "Where did you even come up with that idea? Next thing you're going to tell me silence controls us without us realizing it."

"Silence?"

"Listen to the sound of silence," Atlanta said in a rather creepy sounding voice. "I was talking about time. Time. Time is a demented lady in a box. You see, Tom and I found this book."

"Who is this Tom you're always talking about?" Steven asked. "I've never met a single person here named Tom. Which is odd. Tom is a rather common name."

Atlanta closed her eyes for a moment, looking almost pained. She reopened her eyes and yanked a book out of her back. Steven read the title.

"_Time Traveling Souls_? Can your soul travel through time? Can magic do that?"

"Yes," Atlanta said. "Per this guy. Most people write him off and a loon, but I think he knows what he's talking about. Well, other than Time is a sentient being who travels around in a box. That make no sense. His theory on time travel explains a lot, though."

"Really? Do you know a lot about time travel?"

"I make a point to know about crazy things, you know that, Stevie. I'm an inter-dimensional traveler. If I had a box, I'd think I was Time."

She laughed after she said this. She always laughed when Steven tried to get her to talk about some of the more bizarre things she spoke of. She knew a little too much for not being a Seer (not that Steven believed in those things). When he had first begun talking to her last year, he had entertained the idea she was really from the future. While she knew a lot about Muggles, she failed to really know a lot about the current Muggle culture. She knew vague current events (better than most magical people Steven had met). Yet, it was Muggle technology that really gave her away.

She got frustrated with what was available.

One time she announced she wanted a computer. Another time she wished Regulus had a pager. She'd written to Steven over the summer after he'd lamented about missing a television program he'd wanted to see, he ought to tape it if he knew he was going to be gone.

Then, her recent obsession with time travel. It had started after Christmas break. Suddenly, she was always carrying on about time travel. Yesterday, it'd been time was changeable, always changing and there were a million different parallel universes. Today, there were fixed points in time and a mad lady in a box.

"Time moves in a linear line," she was saying, not realizing Steven hadn't been listening. "So, when you travel into the past, you erase the future you once knew. Time, though, is happening at the same time at all points. Hence why we can travel back in time, yet it's very hard and takes a great deal of magic to pull yourself into the future. And if want to send someone to the future, you have to do some complicated math to be able to arrive at a point where Time will let you."

"So, you can't show up right when you left?"

"No. You'll never be able to do that. You will either be a day late or more," Atlanta reported, flipping the page in the book. "And easiest way to travel to the future is to have someone in the future pull you. Like snatch you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "According to this guy. Hans Tempidio. He created a whole new theory on time travel and was totally brushed off."

"Why?"

"The fact he believes Time is sentient and knows what it's doing. Even if she lives in a box. Time is stubborn and she knows how things have to play out. Time gets board, though, so she allows people to travel through time. Time only cares about the overall storyline, though, so small things it doesn't give two juggernauts about."

"Juggernauts?"

Atlanta went on without noticing Steven's question. She was too busy scribbling in the notebook again. "The fixed points are like main plot points. Only, it's almost impossible to determine what Time considers a fixed point or main plot point. Like—"

Atlanta suddenly stopped talking and looked up, meeting Steven's eye. She blinked several time and turned around sharply, her hair whipping around and hitting Xeno Lovegood in the face.

* * *

She was looking at him. After weeks of no one seeing him, no one noticing him, she was looking right at him. Her jade eyes were glowing slightly and locked on to his own eyes.

He froze, unable to move. Being under her full gaze, with her expression as fierce as it was, was all most too much to handle. She was beautiful, unusual, and no longer his.

Okay. He did have a heart and it ached. If he could, he'd turn back the hands of time and never let himself slip up. Never let her know the Dark Lord's interest in her. He'd refuse to join the Dark Lord if he could turn back time enough. He'd take death before he'd allow the Dark Lord to mark him. He'd not allow his mother to push him around, tell him what to do.

Staring straight into her eyes, he felt lost for a moment.

She turned around before he could analyze it further.

He felt like he was drowning.

* * *

Xeno looked surprised and stared around, swatting the air for whatever invisible bug he was dealing with today. Steven held in a chuckle.

"Time can be rewritten," Atlanta said, turning back to face Steven. "You can rewrite an essay, but in the end you still need all the important parts, yeah?"

"Of course. If you took out the main parts, you'd have no point."

"Time can be rewritten," Atlanta repeated. "She was right. Of course, she's me in a sense and I've always believed that. I'm an idiot who thinks you can go back in time and mess around, change things for the better. I don't agree that you cannot mess with time and bad things happen to wizards who do. Time can be rewritten, as long as you keep the main plot points!"

Think Face appeared and Atlanta fell silent. Steven finished off his cereal and began to pack up to head off to his first class.

"Lanta! Lanta!" he called waving his hand in her face. She hadn't moved for almost ten minutes. "ATLANTA BLACK!"

She startled, looking up at him. Her grey-green eyes were glowing, either from excitement or whatever magic she was using. Steven was never sure why her eyes would glow. It had been creepy when he first noticed, but he was used to it now.

"You have to work around the fixed points. That's all. It's like doing a rewrite. Like if you rewrite a novel."

"You said that already."

"I know. Oh, crap. Class. Later, Stevie."

Atlanta dashed off, her leather bag dragging on the floor behind her. Steven rolled his eyes and walked out of the Great Hall. Ambling along, he caught sight of Regulus Black. He had his hands in the pockets of his robes and books tucked under his arm. He watched Atlanta sprint off up the stairs heading off to class, her poor bag being abused behind her. Sighing, Regulus turned and headed into the dungeons, dragging his feet like Atlanta was dragging her bag. Steven hitched his book bag on his shoulder, wound his scarf around his neck a few times and headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures, his head teeming with ideas.

It was tragic that wizards didn't value entertainment like Muggles did. If wizards had something like television, Steven would know exactly what he'd be doing with his life after Hogwarts. Tragically, wizards were behind in that area. No one focused on the creative arts in this world.

And as a Muggleborn, he'd likely be scorned if he tried to get a job within the wizarding world in it's current state. Also, with this whole Voldemort issue, he might just be safer out of this world than in it.


	27. A Day in the Life

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I fail to own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_A Day in the Life_**

* * *

Regulus Black had started his last year at Hogwarts.

This year there was no Atlanta Black.

This year, he had no one.

This year he had a pain on his arm and in his heart.

This year, he was forced to sit with his fellow Death Eaters and recruit poor saps to worship the Dark Lord Smurf.

This made him want to throw up. Dark Lord Smurf needed spies within Hogwarts.

Dark Lord Smurf was somewhat annoyed Regulus had failed in his only task: recruit Atlanta Black. He was not too thrilled with what had happened.

Atlanta Black broke up with him, graduated after making a ward that would alert Dumbledore who were Death Eaters and had been marked, and vanished off the face of the world. No one had seen or heard from her since she'd walked into the Spellsmith Headquarters in Edinburgh in June. She walked in and never came out.

Regulus would know. He spent most of his summer "trailing" her. This meant, he spent most of his summer in the dingy flat across the street from the headquarters and waited for her to come out.

She never did.

He had turned his post over to another faceless Death Eater, somewhat worried what would happen to Atlanta now that he wasn't watching her.

Dark Lord Smurf was not happy. Regulus could write a ten foot essay on how not happy Lord Smurf found himself.

Since Atlanta Black had gone invisible, the burning pain Regulus' arm was constant. It seemed if Smurf failed to be able to torture Regulus in person, he did it through his ugly Mark.

Regulus was worried about her, despite telling himself to stop. He scanned the papers daily for her name. Her name appeared occasionally in the newspaper, having sold another ward, or created another stunning spell, but other than that— nothing.

Tom was in the paper more often than she was. Or at least Regulus thought it was Tom, as the person went by the name TR DeVinette, which seemed like something Tom would come up with.

Unconsciously, Regulus rubbed his left forearm. The pain was so often, he hardly was aware of it anymore.

Who knew he'd get used to being in constant pain?

"What crawled up your butt and died, Black?"

Regulus gave the person sitting next to him a cold, indifferent look. "A Smurf."

Without waiting to explain, Regulus swept out of the Great Hall.

It was going to be a long school year.

* * *

"I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so excited!"

Sirius bounced up and down a few times.

"And you clearly cannot hide it," Dorcas Meadows commented, watching Sirius bob up and down.

"BLACK! Stop acting like a child!" Alastor Moody bellowed.

Sirius stopped jumping.

He was still excited. He was starting Auror training today. He was still somewhat amazed he had actually been accepted. James applied, but was rejected. It seemed rather stupid to reject someone who wanted to be an Auror in this war, but the program had standards.

Sirius met the standards!

His mother would be applauded.

He snickered at this thought.

"BLACK! PAY ATTENTION!" Moody bellowed.

"Remind me not to sit next to you again," Meadows muttered under her breath, moving her desk a bit aways from Sirius.

Sirius frowned.

"Now, this is your first day and I know you lot more than likely didn't think you would be studying, but becoming an Auror is a three year deal. You will study, you will train, and you will be tested. First off, we will start with chapter one. Open your books."

Sirius stared at the text book and bit back a sigh. While he hated reading and studying from textbooks, he was still giddy. He had peeked at the textbook last night and was surprised it actually held his attention for more than five minutes.

Sirius had already read chapter one. And chapter two. He had almost started to read chapter three when Remus showed up and distracted him. Sirius later laughed that their roles were reversed, as it was usually Sirius prying a book out of Remus' hands.

"This is going to be awesome!" Sirius sung out to Meadows, who in turn glared at him.

"You're like a puppy dog. Now shut up and quiz me on chapter one."

"You read it too!"

"We were supposed to read it before class, you nimrod," Meadow barked.

Sirius sobered up. "Obviously."

Meadows quirked an eyebrow. "So, chapter one…"

* * *

Remus threw down the last letter Zane had delivered.

"Thank you, Zane," Remus said quietly, offering the owl a piece of toast.

The owl took the toast and flew out of the flat. Remus buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan.

Life was so unfair.

He had been out of Hogwarts for seven months and still no job. He had a few leads, but they always fell through. It seemed everyone knew he was a werewolf somehow. Or they found out after a few weeks and fired him. He needed something. Anything.

Remus sat up and set the last rejection letter on fire with his wand and wandered out of the tiny kitchen into the lounge. Sirius had bought a flat right out of school, using money his Uncle Alphard had given him in his will. This left Sirius rather well off, so he insisted Remus move in with him.

Remus had refused, till his mother of all people insisted he do this.

"You're a grown man, you shouldn't be living at home. Go, live with your friend and enjoy life!"

Remus told her he was a little more than a friend. His mother had actually winked at him and drifted out of the room. Remus left, feeling disturbed.

"MOONY!"

Remus jolted, looking around the flat. He flicked his wrist and his wand appeared in his hand. While he had faith in the wards Sirius and Atlanta set up on the flat, they were still at war and Death Eaters were getting trickier.

Though, Death Eaters wouldn't call him Moony.

"MOONY! I know you are in there, mate!"

"James?"

"Who else would be over here in the middle of the afternoon?"

James had a point, but that was besides the point.

"What do you turn into on the full moon?" Remus asked, pressing his ear to the door.

"A stag. What is your favorite kind of chocolate?"

"Cadburry Dairy Milk."

"BINGO. Now let me in!"

Remus unlocked the door, magically and un-magically to reveal James Potter, his hair out of control and looking even wilder than usual.

"MOONY I DID IT!"

"Did what?" Remus asked, standing off to the side.

James waved a box in Remus' face, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It was a blur of burgundy before his eyes.

"James, I cannot tell what you are waving around."

"I went to Gingotts today and got it! Look!"

Something was shoved under Remus' nose. He backed up and peered down at it. It was a small, rounded edged box. Perfect for a piece of jewelry one would wear on a finger.

"Ah, your family ring?"

"Did I grab the wrong one?"

"The box isn't open."

James opened the box and shoved it back under Remus' nose so he was unable to see it. Remus grabbed his friend's wrist and moved the box so he could see it.

"As I stated before, you got your family ring out of the vault."

James quickly moved the box and took a closer look at the ring. "Moony, this is an engagement ring. It's not my family ring. Don't scare me like that."

"I meant it's what you Potters use to ask other non-Potters to marry you Potters. I wouldn't use that to ask someone to marry me, as I am not a Potter."

"Oh. Yes, it's the family ring. The one my grandmother used."

"Are you asking?" Remus joked dryly.

"My grandmother? No, she's dead."

Remus pressed his face into his own hand.

"So, are you asking?" Remus asked.

"Yes. I am asking."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm with Sirius. I do not see you that way. I'm so sorry we had to have this discussion."

James smacked him. "I'm asking Lily! It matches her eyes."

James brandished the ring and the box in Remus' face again. James continued to bounce around the flat for the remainder of the afternoon till Sirius came home from Auror School. (It was a sore point for Sirius he was still going to school and not out fighting bad guys.) Sirius bounced with James for fifteen minutes till he managed something Remus had been unable to do for the past five hours: he kicked James out of the flat.

"God, I thought I was going to strangle him," Sirius moaned, collapsing on the couch. "I'm exhausted. Moody had us running in circles. Literally. Circles. With textbooks on our heads."

"Sorry. What's for dinner?"

"I don't know. Can you believe James is going to ask her? I wonder if she'll hex him?"

"I doubt it. I have a feeling she'll say yes."

"I heard today my mother is trying to get Regulus hitched," Sirius said in an attempt to sound conversational. "And guess what?"

"He's not going for it?"

"How'd you guess? I was shocked Regulus was putting his foot down."

Remus sighed. "Sirius, we both witnessed his behavior last year at school. He spent most of it looking dead on his feet."

Sirius made a noise. "Yeah. You'd think he'd get over it. Atlanta did."

Remus held his tongue. Atlanta was simply better at hiding it than Regulus. Atlanta had distractions all around her. She had Tom Riddle, her Ravenclaw friends Xeno Lovegood and Steven Moffat, and Lily and the Marauders. Regulus had Death Eaters— not the best company.

"Hey, is that an owl?" Sirius asked, pointing out the window.

Remus turned around and peeked. Sure enough, what appeared to be a Hogwarts owl was careening at their window. Remus scrambled to open the window when Sirius made no move to open it. The owl nosedived in, dropped the letter on Sirius' head and swooped back out.

"Ouch. Why did it drop this on my head? It's for you."

Sirius held out the letter and Remus took it. He recognized Dumbledore's handwriting. Gulping, he broke the seal and read the letter. After he finished it, he re-read it.

"Well? What does Dumbles want?" Sirius asked.

"To teach me Occlumency."

"Ocular what?" Sirius asked.

"Occlumency. It's a magical defense method to protect one's mind from external penetration."

"Dirty."

Remus slapped Sirius with the letter. He walked over to the couch and sat down.

"It's also used in order to organize thoughts, emotions and such. It helps you also close your mind and control your reactions to things in tough situations. You can become blank and empty at a moment's notice, making it harder for your enemy to know what you might be thinking," Remus rattled off. "It's the only defense against Legilimency."

"Remus, stop using big words. My head hurts. Why does Dumbledore want you to know this?"

"I have no idea. He claims it will be beneficial to me in the future," Remus said.

Sirius shrugged. He sat down next Remus, fell over and placed his head in Remus' lap. Remus folded up the letter and stared down at Sirius, who promptly fell asleep.

* * *

"What made me think I could be a Healer?"

Lily yanked at her hair, collapsing into a chair in her flat. Suddenly, she became aware she could smell cooking food. She sat up straight.

"Mary, are you cooking?"

Her flatmate should NOT be allowed to cook in the kitchen. Her flatmate on more than one occasion had attempted to BURN the flat down.

"I am not MARY!" said a rather manly sounding voice from the kitchen.

Eyes wide, Lily stood up and crossed the hall into the kitchen. In her kitchen stood James Potter in a flowered apron, a wooden spoon in his hand. On the hob were several pots, all issuing steam. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

James Potter was in the kitchen. Wearing a flower apron.

James Potter cooked?

"Now, scram. I'm making you a romantic dinner. Go soak in the bath. Don't you women like to do that after a long day?" James asked, his free hand on his hip.

Lily ogled him for a moment longer before muttering about her sanity and going to the loo. She ran a bath, threw in an abnormal amount of bath salts and sunk down into the tub, convincing herself she was seeing things.

James Potter was not in the kitchen wearing a flower apron cooking. She must have inhaled some sort of potion that induced vivid hallucinations.

A half hour later, she emerged, washed, relaxed and smelling like jasmine. The flat still smelled of Italian spices and from the lounge, she could tell candles were lit in a romantic sense. She slowly walked over to the lounge to find it transformed into a romantic bistro.

"Lily Flower, my darling, come sit," James called, holding out a chair.

Lily stared.

"Lily?"

"Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?"

"I am James Potter."

"Prove it."

James stared at her, looking confused.

"Er…third year, I asked you out and you said no. Then, you hexed me and my toe tails grew so fast and thick, they broke through my shoes."

Lily let out a sigh. Only James Potter would admit that and smile.

"After that, you charmed my hair bright green, gave me tentacles…oh, once you gave me an elephant trunk for a nose…Oh! Then there was the time you hexed me to the ceiling of the common room. It's very high up there."

Lily walked over to the chair and sat down.

"Now, before we eat, since you're reacting badly to the fact I did this, I'm going to ask you before I get the food in here, as that would be very messy and I don't want to deal with that on a night like tonight."

Lily eyed him wearily.

James got down on one knee, opened a burgundy box and held it out to her. "Marry me."

"Is that a request or an order?"

"Request. I know better than to order you."

"Why not ask?"

"Er…honestly?"

"Yes."

"Atlanta suggested I just request it. Also, she said you don't like run of the mill and everything I planned I guess is very run of the mill, so a demand-slash-request was the best way to ask."

Lily eyed him, not sure what to respond to that bit of information.

"Fine. But I'm testing the food for potions," Lily announced, standing up and storming into the kitchen. Behind her she heard James sigh.

After fifteen minutes of doing every spell she could think of on the food James had prepared, she found nothing wrong with it, so she grabbed the ring from him and put it on. It resized itself to her finger. She stared at the bright green stone that matched her eyes.

"Fine. But, I get to pick the date."

She sat down at the table.

"Of course you do. I wouldn't dream of it any other way."

"And I will kill Atlanta," Lily announced. "She ruined my day."

James looked perplexed, but Lily never explained she was like any little girl and had dreamed of being asked to marry the man of her dreams. And that included "Will you marry me?" not "Marry me."

The next morning, at five in the morning, Atlanta Black received a Howler.

Atlanta never tried to give advice to James again. She stuck to giving romantic advice to Sirius, as Remus had never sent her a Howler.

* * *

Severus blinked.

Hard.

The fumes were killing him. Whatever this potion was, it was nasty. The Dark Lord had not told Severus what the potion was, just how to make it. It looked to be a potion of the Dark Lord's making, as it was in his handwriting. Severus hated to admit it, but the Dark Lord had very beautiful handwriting. It was neat, artful and elegant. It reminded Severus of a bygone era.

"How is it coming, Severus?" a cold, high voice asked from behind him.

Severus did not bother to turn to look at the Dark Lord, knowing when brewing a potion the Dark Lord understood his full attention was needed on what Severus was doing.

"It is coming along," Severus answered.

"How are your studies going?"

"Fine."

"When will you achieve mastery level?"

"Three years," Severus answered.

He internally glowered. Atlanta Black was getting her mastery in a few weeks. And, if the newspaper was anything to go by, she had already built up a good fortune selling her wards. Severus was working for a pittance at an apothecary.

"Ah," the Dark Lord said. "I have a mission for you this evening. You will go to the an restaurant called The Witchery by the Castle. I have information that certain members of the Order of the Phoenix are meeting there to celebrate something there this evening."

Severus paused for a moment in his stirring to give the Dark Lord a quizzical look. While young, Severus had managed to win the Dark Lord's approval rather quickly after he graduated ten months ago. The Dark Lord saw something within Severus and favored him above many of his most trusted followers. Severus discovered this allowed him some leeway when dealing with the volatile man.

Hence the quizzical look that did not end with Severus screaming on the ground.

" It seems Miss Black is being awarded her mastery after less than a year of study. It seems this is a joint celebration for her as well as other things. Hopefully, if she is interacting with others, you can observe her movements. I've made all the arrangements. You will use this hair," the Dark Lord held out a vile with a few hairs in it. Severus took it. "You leave at seven."

Turning, the Dark Lord left and Severus went back to stirring.

More often than not, the spying missions Severus was sent on were in Edinburgh and were in hopes of observing Atlanta Black. No one had seen her since graduation. Regulus Black reported seeing her walk into the Spellsmith Headquarters, but she never came out.

It was April and no one had seen head or tail of her.


	28. Denial Isn't Just a River

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_Denial Isn't Just a River_**

* * *

Tom watched Atlanta's feet as she skipped down the stairs of the Spellsmith Headquarters. She looked up from her shoes finally and used her eyes to watch where she was heading as she ambled down the road. It was a cool spring evening and it had finally stopped raining. The streets of Edinburgh were still damp from the persistent, almost never ending rainfall that occurred year round. All it did was seem to rain. More so than it did in London.

Tom was beginning to wonder if there was any where he'd reside that wasn't constantly besieged by rain.

"This is somewhat annoying," Tom remarked in Atlanta's head. "I enjoy us being outside, but I cannot smell what you do. I must rely on my imagination, as poor as it is."

He dimly remembered what it smelled like after a spring rain.

Atlanta snorted softly, but did not respond with words. He knew she wouldn't speak, as the people on the street with her would be alarmed, as they'd simply hear a disembodied voice.

It had taken awhile, but Tom had gotten used to the fact when he went out in public with Atlanta, no one could see her. She was not wearing an invisibility cloak, she had not cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on herself, nor had she Disillusioned herself. No, she had cast a Fidelius Charm on herself, making herself the Secret Keeper. It had taken her and Tom almost three months after entering the Spellsmith Headquarters to achieve this, but they had been successful. Atlanta was much less stressed out after no one would ever be able to find her if she did not want them to find her. Tom was simply pleased they were allowed to leave the Headquarters. While time meant little to Tom in his current state, it was so boring inside the same place day in and day out.

"Do make sure to tell Lily I think she is an idiot for accepting Potter's proposal," Tom reminded Atlanta as they walked along the twisting, crooked, cobbled streets of Old Town towards the restaurant she was meeting the Marauders and Lily to celebrate the engagement (yes, they were getting married next month, but this was the first time everyone was available to get together) and the fact Atlanta was being awarded her mastery soon.

Tom felt her silent chuckle.

Tom remained quiet for the remainder of the trip to the restaurant. When they reached the restaurant, Atlanta pushed the heavy door and entered. She stood near the hostess stand for a moment till suddenly someone said in her ear, "Nice to see you out and about."

Atlanta turned and flung her arms around the person. It took Tom a moment to realize the person was Sirius Black. He groaned internally. At least he couldn't _feel_ the hug.

Hugging. How…sentimental.

"Come along, luv."

Tom wondered what it looked like to others when Sirius hugged and proceeded to guide thin air across the room. Tom pondered quite a bit what it looked like when others interacted with Atlanta in public now that she was invisible. In the time since she'd cast the spell on herself, they hadn't actually done much in public, but it still gave him endless hours of amusement when she did something unexpected. It was a wonderful afternoon when she'd been horridly bored, so she'd gone to Edinburgh Castle and proceeded to be a ghost for a few hours and scared tourists.

Sirius led her back to a private room.

Ah, the mutt and his friends were thinking!

Sirius gave her a dog like grin and threw the doors open and noise burst out of the room.

"LANTTY!"

"LANTA!"

"ADDY!"

Atlanta was accosted by people. Tom withdrew from her eyes and settled into darkness. He could still hear what was going on, just not see it. This suited him perfectly.

"You look good!" Lily said.

"Let me see the ring," Atlanta demanded, then gasped. "Oh my god! That is gorgeous! It totally matches your eyes!"

Inane chatter took over. Tom contemplated the ward they were working on. It would block people bearing the Dark Mark. It was a step up from the ward they had created for Hogwarts. Atlanta admitted she didn't want an anti-Dark Mark ward for Hogwarts, as students still needed an education.

Boring.

Tom pondered the nuts and bolts of the ward that would finally earn them the status of Master. While her teacher wished to bestow it on her after she had successfully hidden herself using an altered Fidelius Charm, Atlanta instead she wanted her mastery project to be the Anti-Dark Mark ward. She wanted to make her money doing wards, so her teacher relented.

Tom wasn't sure how much time had passed before he realized silence had fallen.

"Pete, who is that?" Sirius demanded. His tone alerted Tom something was amiss. Tom moved so he could see out of Atlanta's eyes.

Peter Pettigrew stood next to a rather short, blonde-haired, round witch who was wearing a rather deep scowl and look of annoyance on her face. It was a familiar look. The stance was also all wrong for a woman.

"Oh, this is my date. Er, Ariel."

"Yes. Ariel Waters," the witch said, a drawl to her voice.

Tom felt the atmosphere shift. Atlanta leaned over to who she was sitting next to, Remus, and whispered, "I'll just be going. I don't now this chick. I'll tell Lily goodbye."

With ease, Atlanta shifted out of the chair without moving it. She maneuvered around Remus to where Lily sat with Potter. She whispered in Lily's ear something Tom couldn't hear and then slowly worked her way out of the room, slipping out just as the waitress entered with another round of drinks. Tom caught Pettigrew looking rather unsettled at Atlanta's exit. Pettigrew did not know Atlanta was invisible. The first time she had seen him after the spell she had simply shouted, "I'm Atlanta Black and I'm right here!"

He looked at her as if she happened to be insane, which wasn't actually anything new.

"I think that was Severus Snape under the influence of Polyjuice Potion," Tom remarked, realizing what was familiar about the unknown person. The scowl, the stance, the way the witch scanned the room were all classic Snape.

Atlanta stumbled and rammed into a table, which confused and upset the patrons of the restaurant, most of whom were Muggles. Atlanta righted herself and fled. She quickly darted into one of the handy, dark closes Edinburgh sported and let out a belt of a laugh. She was laughing so hard, she ended up on the ground. Since they were in an alley, Tom let himself out of her arm, materializing before her.

"I wish I had stayed now! Just to witness that!" she chocked out between laughs. "SNAPE IN A DRESS!"

Tom glowered at her. "Do you know what this means?"

"What?" Atlanta asked, slowly getting a hold of herself.

"HE KNOWS!"

Tom did not understand how someone with her intelligence could be so stupid.

"Oh. Yeah. Oh, no…"

"Yes. It means he's got Peter. Or will shortly have him," Tom confirmed. "Peter isn't that great of a liar, so I doubt he knew his date was Snape in a dress."

All her amusement, cheer and joy eked out and she slumped against the wall.

"INSERT LOTS OF CURSE WORDS HERE!"

Atlanta recently decided she was no longer going to curse, even in her creative manner, so now she simply made an announcement and allowed the listener to choose whatever curse he or she thought was needed.

Tom inserted quite a few.

"Did you see that?" someone called. "That ghost! It swore!"

Tom quickly darted back into Atlanta's arm.

"Curses," she muttered, putting her face into her hands. "I guess I didn't try hard enough to include Pettigrew in the past year."

"Addy, the past year you were working on your mastery and trying to get enough money to buy a flat. Which, we will need soon and we won't be leaving it, so it best be nice."

Atlanta grumbled, pushing herself to her feet. She stalked off, still muttering to herself.

"Why is Moldy Trousers so interested in you?" Tom inquired.

It had made little to no sense to Tom, especially after finding out Moldy was _him_. He could not comprehend how he had become…that. The ideals the man held were so…pompous and skewed. What he had started out preachings were things Tom had once felt, but now he was going about the whole thing so fallaciously, Tom did not even know where to begin to point out what was erroneous.

Atlanta and Calliope had explained his future self away as he didn't have a grounding sense of right and wrong. Tom did thanks to Atlanta. Tom's past self had never been introduced to emotions, morals, or empathy. He seeped himself in the vilest Dark Arts and wound up insane.

Or he would be, according to Atlanta. Evidently at the moment he was rather lucid and not a Schadenfreude psychotic misanthropist. Moldy's second coming was worst than his first, as any sanity he had been able to maintain before that fateful night of 31 October 1981 was lost the moment he attempted to blast the Potter's child to smithereens.

Idiot.

"Calliope," Atlanta hissed under her breath, after looking around to make sure no one was within ear shot. "I am, or will be, Calliope."

"But why does he want her?" Tom asked.

Atlanta grunted.

"So, he thinks you are her?"

She nodded, the world going up and down rather rapidly. Tom huffed.

"I still do not understand why we cannot alert your friends to their untimely ends," Tom said softly as Atlanta hurried through the darkened streets of Old Town.

"Fixed points," Atlanta hissed under her breath as she dodged people. "They are hard to change."

Tom sighed deeply. He hated the theory of fixed points in time. Logically, it made no sense as Tom liked to think of time as an ever changing, ever flowing stream. Nothing in the future had yet to happen, so it could be changed in the past. Time would alter in the future around how they changed things in the present.

Tom really wanted to change quite a few things, one being the death of Lily Evans. Tom had started really mourning her when he found out it was _him_ that killed her. He felt dirty, wrong and off kilter. Potter asking her to marry him only made Tom sad, not happy. Lily was one step closer to her own death. He was sure the sadness was his own, as Atlanta was somewhat happy for the pair.

"They live out their final year in bliss. They love one another and produce an adorable baby, who grows into Harry. Harry, I believe, is the event that has to happen and he happens to be a wonderful person. And handles his lot in life brilliantly. If it makes you feel any better, I'll tell Dumbledore to watch Petunia," Atlanta had offered when Tom had first complained. "Then maybe he won't have such a hard knock life."

"At least you're FINALLY being honest with me," Tom had shouted at her, then refused to speak to her for a month. It was somewhat difficult, as this argument had occurred while they were at Spellsmith Headquarters and working on their final project. There were only so many places Tom could hide.

It wasn't the first time he refused to speak to Atlanta, and more than likely not the last. He had stopped speaking to her after Calliope let the cat out of the bag. He had been avoiding thinking about what Calliope had said in the Room of Requirement when they'd been alone. He lived in denial (it was such a lovely place, really) till the day Calliope left and he could no longer avoid he,Tom Riddle, turned into Lord Voldemort.

He refused to speak to Atlanta and lived in his cube till Atlanta took him out and told him to stop pouting. He still did not speak to her until April, when she bribed him with the Death Eater ward for Hogwarts.

Even now, thinking about the fact he'd succumbed to her bribe made him tetchy.

"You're not Lord Voldemort. You have different life experiences and people in your life. I think you actually have a friend," Atlanta had reminded him a million times.

It was the mantra of his life now: He was not Lord Voldemort. He would never become Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort disgusted him.

Tom Riddle had acquaintances and a friend. Lord Voldemort had minions.

"Okay, Riddler, we're home. Come on out," Atlanta said, bringing Tom back to reality.

Tom quickly exited her arm and settled in a chair near the window. He gazed out, shifting his eyesight to see magic. Sure enough, the Death Eaters were still across the street, their magic showing up brightly.

Morons. Didn't their _fearless_ leader teach them how to HIDE their magic?

"You really believe Peter is a Death Eater now?" Tom inquired.

"Yes," Atlanta said over the noise of running water. Tom turned, looking for her. She emerged wearing her night things from the toilet, coiling her hair on top of her head. "I know he's going to be the Secret Keeper for the Potters, tell Moldy and then frame Sirius for his crimes. Because he's a rat."

"And why cannot we tell anyone this information?"

"Malfoy."

Tom made an angry noise of frustration and folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"You do know they can see you even if they can't see me, right?"

Tom gave her a pugnacious look and went back to gazing out the window.

"I hate Draco Malfoy," Tom groused.

Her reasoning for trying not to alter the fixed points in time was for Draco's sake. After reading every single time travel book in Hogwarts and meeting Calliope Riddle, Atlanta decided major events— the death of the Potters, the disappearance of Moldy, Sirius going off to jail— could not be altered due to the fact she theorized Draco had sent himself back to his eleven-year-old self to redo the _his _past. Thus, the past needed to be kept as close to what Draco remembered.

Tom thought the whole thing was ridiculous.

"So, what are we going to do after we go into hiding? Are we going to sit around for the next thirteen years till Draco Malfoy deems to show up? If he even shows up where you think he is going to show up?"

Atlanta threw something at Tom that wasn't spelled with her magic, so it went right through his head and hit the window. He glowered at her, crossing his legs and arms tightly to illustrate how irritated he currently was.

"No. We're going to invent spells," Atlanta said, crawling into her bed. "Save lives of the little people. Be the hero of the story."

Tom remained in his chair. He usually slept in the bed next to Atlanta (as he grew tired for some reason that neither could figure out). He had been "sharing" a bed with Atlanta since he'd come into being. It seemed so…wrong when she first had suggested it. Tom was aware it made Regulus uncomfortable, which only made Tom bring it up more often than not to annoy the boy. After joking about it for so long, it didn't seem like a big deal.

He was too mad at the moment to go to bed.

His movements were limited to her movements. If she went into hiding, refusing to leave her flat, Tom would be tied to the flat, as while he had his cube, he was still somewhat transparent.

Not his idea of fun.

Nor was allowing Lily and Potter to die. At his own hand in a twisted manner. Lily had so much to offer the world. Even though she was still in training to be a Healer, she had already developed a faster acting pain potion!

"Fixed points, Riddler," Atlanta said, reading his line of thinking. "I'm not going to leave everyone else to suffer their horrible fates. I have put a plan into action that will allow Remus to lead a better life and hopefully, I'll figure out a way to get Sirius out of jail faster. And get the rat."

"Why must Sirius go to jail?"

"Because. Harry has to go live with Petunia. Even after Moldy is gone, his followers still are at large and would be after Harry. After the Death Eaters go into hiding, we'll get Sirius out."

"I don't care about Sirius," Tom reminded her. "I don't _like _him."

She giggled. "Of course you don't, Riddler."

They fell silent. Tom stared out the window. He watched late night drunks stager around, giggling university students walk around in groups and other people move without a care in the world.

"We're going to save Reggie," Atlanta announced, waving her wand and turning the lights off. "I have no idea how he dies, but we're saving Reggie."

Love. Something Tom was never going to understand.

Unwinding himself, he stood and crossed the small room to the bed, sitting slowly down on his side. He stared down at Atlanta. Her back was to him, but from the tension in her shoulders that showed above the blankets, he knew she was trying to be strong and not dwell on the misfortune of Regulus Black.

"We'll save Regulus," Tom agreed quietly. "What must we do?"

"I have no idea. I don't know how he dies," Atlanta whispered, rolling over to face him. She held the covers under her chin and stared at him with large eyes that glowed a little in the dark. "I only know he got cold feet and attempted to back out after he saw what Moldy was willing to do to achieve his ends."

"And no one backs away from Moldy."

"Exactly."

"If you want to save him, would it not be prudent to reestablish contact?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Did you forget who is stalking me?"

"No. But, wouldn't that aid Regulus?"

"No. Not if I want him to disappear and live."

"So, what will we wait for?"

"Reggie to find me."

"No one can find you except Lily, Potter, Black, and Lupin. Oh, and the rat."

"They can see me," Atlanta corrected. "Moldy knows where I live currently. But he can't see me. After we leave here, no one will be able to find us. That is when we wait for Reggie."

"So, you'll tell no one?"

"I'll tell Sirius and Remus. And I guess Lily."

"Won't they wonder why you won't let the rat know?"

"No."

"And not Potter?"

"Potter and I aren't close. I doubt he'll want to visit."

"All right. If those three are the only ones who can find you, then how will Regulus?"

"The same way I always find him."

Tom had no idea what she was talking about, but decided to not question her, as he noticed her eyelids getting heavy. After five minute of silence, her breathing evened out. Tom lowered himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

His life was so peculiar. It was not how he ever imagined it. Then again, the life Lord Voldemort led wasn't how Tom imagined his life turning out either. If he was honest and had to pick a life, he'd pick the one he currently was suffering through. He had his sanity, he was allowed to experiment with magic (both Light and Dark, as Atlanta had no qualms performing either as long as she wasn't maiming or killing), learn new magic and share his knowledge with the world under a false name. While he would rather not be tied to anyone, Atlanta was not all that bad.

Tom snorted and sneered.

Enough being sentimental.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.


	29. I'm The Hero of This Story

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. This is also a really long chapter and Atlanta curses. I think twice. Please excuse her, she is rather upset and couldn't find a better word to convey her emotions.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_I'm Hero of The Story_**

* * *

Sirius stumbled a bit as he Apparated into the sheltered back alley behind Atlanta's flat. He'd always a bit confused on her choice of cities to live in, but figured her boarder line insanity was part of the reason she had chosen to live in the West End of Glasgow, Scotland. To Sirius, Glasgow was worst than the dingy, dirty area of London where Grimmauld Place was located.

"You don't understand real estate, Padfoot," she had informed him, standing in front of a dirty looking sandstone building. The whole area was covered with identical looking buildings, like they had all been picked out of a catalogue and placed in a circle. "This is an up and coming area, trust me. I know things. And I adore the historical aspects. The city really wants to protect and refurbish these townhouses. Plus, the Park District is totally gorgeous."

Sirius had rolled his eyes deeply at her.

He did not really truly understand— nor would he ever— but he did understand her desire to live in a Muggle area. If there was one thing he knew about Atlanta Dorothy Black (besides the random insane things that popped out of her mouth), she loved anything Muggle.

Sirius walked out of the alley and onto the street she lived on. Part of him, even in his misery, desperately wanted to transform into Padfoot and gallop through the inviting park across the street from the flat. The flat was located on top of a hill and from the hill rolled the ever green scenery of Glasgow's West End. The park located across the street was massive and called to Sirius's inner dog. It took every ounce of himself to not transform. He had spent too many days as a dog in recent days.

A wave of regret and sadness overtook him.

Shaking it off, he climbed the stone stairs to the massive, formerly elegant black front door. (It had clearly seen better days and was in need of a paint job.) He stared at the list of flats and saw A. BLACK. He always snorted when he saw that. He hit the familiar white button and waited a moment.

"Yes?"

"It's Sirius."

"Oh, no. Well, I best let you up if it's serious," she joked, not realizing the gravity of the situation. Sirius frowned. He had counted on her knowing the current situation. Either from Remus or from the fact she simply _knew_ things she shouldn't.

After a long pause where he made no quippy come back, she said, "Uh, you still there or did your run out on me?"

"Still here, Atlanta."

"Uh, oh. Full first name. Come on up and tell me what is so vastly serious you failed to join in punning your tragic first name."

The buzzer went off and Sirius pushed the door open into the lobby. In the past it had been grand (like everything else in the building), but had fallen into disrepair (like everything else in the building). He started up the massive staircase (also in need of a new paint job), climbing till he reached the third floor. Atlanta was already standing at the door to the flat, a look of concern on her face. She gave him a once over and the look of concern grew to alarm.

"Sirius Orion Black, what the hell happened to you?"

Sirius stopped in his tracks and felt himself crumble. He knew he looked horrible— his hair dirty, his usually polished outer shell in shambles. He had dark circles around his eyes and his usually clear eyes were bloodshot, either from drinking or from lack of sleep or both.

He wasn't aware of the last time he'd eaten. As a dog or a human.

He wasn't even aware he'd even hit the floor till Atlanta hoisted him to his feet. Using strength that rivaled Remus', she managed to haul him into her flat and deposited him on her black leather couch that faced her television. She sat down next to him in the overly sunny, bright, cheery lounge. Sirius really wanted to shut all the shades, as the flat seemed to be sunny even though it was cloudy and ugly outside.

She put her hand on his leg and leaned in closer to him. He could feel her studying him carefully even though he kept his eyes glued to the ground.

"Please, Siri, tell me what's wrong."

He stared at her in a jarring sort of way. She'd only called him "Siri" once before. Usually only Remus called him that when they were alone and Remus was trying to be cute or caring. Tears began leaking out of Sirius' eyes.

Atlanta looked at a loss on what to do with Sirius, so he flung himself backwards, sinking into the stiff couch. He put his hands over his face and let out a wail, which even to his own ears sounded too foreign to be coming out of his mouth.

"How do you do it, Atlanta, how?" Sirius demanded, dropping his hands from his face. "How do you live each day?"

She looked confused. She bit her bottom lip for a moment. Sirius waited for her to figure it out without telling her, but it seemed this time she didn't have a moment of Knowing. He did not really want to voice it, he did not really want to have to tell her what he'd done, what he suspected and how he felt after two weeks. He had counted on her _Knowing_. He knew she'd always known this was coming. While he didn't think she really 'knew,' he felt that she had an inkling.

"I just live," she said. "I'm not sure what you're asking. Is the war getting to you? I know you're on the front lines as an Auror while I'm tucked away in my flat making loads of money inventing spells with our friendly apparition."

"He's not friendly. He's a freaking sociopath."

"So's Sherlock Holmes."

Not wanting to keep discussing Tom the Apparition, Sirius glanced around the flat, taking it in for the first time since he'd sat down. It was clear since she'd moved in, she'd redone the entire place. It looked as polished and grand as she described when she'd bought the flat shortly after Lily and James got married. She had a vision when she'd looked at it, which Sirius had failed to share. It'd clearly had recently been finished, as the last time Sirius's had been in the flat, there was no kitchen. Now, there was a brand new kitchen, which looked as if it were from the future.

"I take it the pair of you have sold quite a few spells," Sirius said flatly.

"Being a Master pays, dude," she informed him gravely. "Also, having a high functioning sociopath genius on your sides does too. I'm pretty sure he gave up sleeping."

Atlanta had managed to get her Master Spellsmith standing less than a year after graduation and it wasn't because she was pretty or the fact she had Tom Riddle (the sociopath) in her head half the time. She was adept and clever before Tom showed up. She was one of the most sought after Spellsmiths in the world. Add onto that the fact Tom was a rather well known author of a boat load of cutting edge spell books, as TR DeVinette, the pair would never want for anything.

Sirius did worry she was closing herself off from human interaction by spending so much time with…the apparition. Though, she had her reasons, he guessed. He did find it odd after she moved to the flat, she only told himself, Remus and Lily where she was living. Atlanta Black was a master at using the Filedlius Charm and had hidden herself and the flat without the aid of a Secret Keeper somehow. It was so complex, even Dumbledore had issues understanding it.

"Back to the matter at hand. No. And yes on the war thing," Sirius admitted. "But, I want to know how you live being in love with a Death Eater."

All the color left her face and she let out a puff of air. It sounded like Sirius had punched her in the gut.

"How do you do it, Lanta? I know you still love him. I know you do," Sirius insisted. "And you knew he was a Death Eater BEFORE you saw the Dark Mark on his arm!"

He was yelling at her, taking his anger out on her. He knew and she knew it, but her eyes were still filling with tears. She'd let the words wound her, tightening around her till she was restricted. Atlanta sat perfectly still for a moment, till the damn burst. She balled her fists and stood up, taking a few steps away from him.

"Who do you think is a Death Eater? The only person I know you love that way is Remus," Atlanta all but screamed at him. "And REMUS is not a Death Eater, you moron! How can you even entertain the idea that REMUS JOHN LUPIN is a FUCKING Death Eater!"

Sirius felt like he's hit gold. She's sworn at him. She had stopped cursing over a year ago. He'd made her curse.

Sirius leapt up, balling his own fists up. "HOW? Have you looked at the freaking evidence!?"

"WHAT EVIDENCE?!"

"HE'S ALWAYS GONE ON SECRET MISSIONS! ALL OUR MISSIONS GET BUGGERED UP WHILE HE IS GONE! EVEN ONES THAT NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT BUT THOSE INVOLVED IN, GET MESSED UP! WE HAVEN'T HAD A SUCCESSFUL MISSION SINCE WE ALL JOINED THE ORDER! OUR SIDE IS LOOSING. THERE IS A SPY!"

Atlanta made the same noise she'd made before, like Sirius has punched her in the gut. She tripped backwards, almost falling to the ground. Her hand came up and she covered her mouth. Her sage eyes went large. She began to shake her head.

"No, no, no, no, no," she muttered behind her hand. She began looking everywhere except Sirius.

"What? Atlanta, tell me now!"

Sirius felt she knew something that he did not— like how she knew Regulus, Snape and a few others were Death Eaters. The same way she'd known that James and Lily were going to wind up married. The same way she'd gotten excited that day in that strange room when she found something. How she'd known Remus had fallen for Sirius before even Remus knew it himself. Sirius had accepted sometimes Atlanta Dorothy Black just _knew_ things. He'd come to count on her simply _knowing_. It steamed from whatever was wrong with her brain that made her slightly mad, but harmless.

Sirius was sure she knew who the spy was in the Order. Atlanta had refused to join the Order, but she did spell work for them when Dumbledore asked. Sirius was never sure if her refusal to join the Order was because Dumbledore refused to allow it (he seemed to refuse to allow her to do things or say things sometimes), or she refused to work against Regulus. Sirius always felt it was the latter— though, Dumbledore was always hesitant to ask Atlanta for her input passed a spell or two for protection. He'd flat out refused the last time when someone suggested her as a member.

It raised a few eyebrows, since she was the person creating all the fancy wards for the Order.

Her wards were the strongest and almost impossible to get through. Everyone Sirius knew had wards Atlanta had created on their homes. She had even invented a few, one which kept out people with Dark Marks. And yet, somehow, the Death Eaters knew how to get through these wards. They knew exactly where the weak spots were and how to fool the anti-Dark Mark wards.

It frustrated Atlanta (and Tom), so no one questioned that she was doing it herself. (Or Tom, those who knew about him, since he'd had a small hissy fit and caused himself to vanish for a few days as he'd drained all his energy or something weird.)

"ATLANTA, WHO IS THE SPY!"

"PETER!"

Atlanta slapped her hand over her mouth. She stared at him with wide eyes and he knew she had NEVER meant to tell him that. Blinking, he tried to wrap his mind around why she wouldn't tell them she knew.

Atlanta sat down, forgetting she had moved away from the couch and landed with a loud crash on the floor.

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Ohmigod, ohmigod. It's a fixed point in time, it's a fixed point in time."

Atlanta began to hyperventilate. She pulled her knees to her chest and began to rock back and forth.

Sirius stared at her. She continued to gasp and stutter for a long time before Sirius couldn't stand it any longer. No matter how miserable he was or how mad he was, he couldn't stand around and watch her slowly turn blue. Kneeling down next to her, he took her in his arms and hugged her. She stopped rocking and allowed him to comfort her.

"You crazy bint. I don't know what that crazy voice in your head is telling you, but Peter is not a spy," Sirius informed her. "How could he be a spy? He's…well, he's Peter."

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Atlanta sobbed, finally breaking down. "Sirius, you don't— don't understand! I'm…."

She pushed him away roughly. She crawled away from him before getting to her feet.

"I'm not in an alternative reality! Nothing I have done here has changed ANYTHING! Do you understand that? NOTHING is different! I'm here and NOTHING is different! You still think REMUS is a freaking DEATH EATER! There is STILL a SPY in the Order! Regulus STILL became a Death Eater! Snape STILL chose the Death Eaters! We have stronger wards, better defensive spells, and WE ARE STILL LOSING! NOTHING I DO CHANGS ANYTHING BECAUSE IT IS ALL FIXED!" She grabbed at her hair and pulled hard. Sirius heard the hairs ripping from her scalp. "Regulus _STILL_ went dark, even after ALL THE FUCKING OPTIONS I GAVE HIM. I spent almost TWO FUCKING YEARS trying to TALK SNAPE OUT OF IT! AND PETER!"

She let out a scream at this point and left the room.

"THE ONLY THING I DID WAS TO GET MOFFAT TO GO STUDY WRITING!"

Sirius remained on the floor, staring at where she'd vanished. He heard things crashing in another room, her screaming more about Moffat— who Sirius couldn't remember in the least— and Tom asking her what the hell had gotten into her. The pair began to argue about the flow of time as she threw things around in whatever room she'd gone to in the back of the flat.

Sirius mulled over what she'd said about Regulus, Snape and Peter. He didn't think Peter could possible be the spy. He was too stupid. Peter also didn't hold any of the beliefs of Voldemort or his followers. There was no reason for Peter to even join that side. Remus, though…he was a werewolf. He was discarded by wizarding society. Since graduation, other than work for the Order, Remus had been unable to even get a job, let alone hold one. Voldemort could easily promise Remus great things in exchange for information. There was also the small fact, Remus was powerful for a wizard. Peter was weak. Why would Voldemort want a weak wizard? Voldemort was all about the power.

Sirius didn't want to believe either one was the spy, but something told him that it was someone close to him who happened to be the spy.

Peter never went on missions. Peter went to work, took care of his mother and hung around with James and Sirius. Peter didn't _know_ anything. He only went to the basic meetings, never the mission planning meetings.

Remus went to those.

There was no way Peter could be the spy.

Peter was suspicious of Remus. Sirius wasn't the only one.

Also, Atlanta _was_ slightly insane. She thought she was from an alternative reality. Though, she'd just stated she wasn't. Her best friend was a ghost like being named Tom Riddle, who grew up to become Voldemort, and had sprung out of a sketchbook created by Walburga Black.

She was currently fighting with that thing that wasn't a ghost, yet wasn't an actual human being who grew up to be Lord Voldemort. She worked with this…thing…and lived with this thing. She carried it in her arm and had its voice in her head, for crying out loud, when she left the flat.

Yeah, Atlanta Dorothy Black was a little crazy.

Pushing himself to his feet, Sirius walked into the entrance hall and headed down to where the bedrooms were located. He found Atlanta in the room used as the study/Tom's room. It was littered in paper and parchment, books and various other odd do-dads. The room looked as if it had recently exploded. The desk was turned over, the bed had been stripped and the sheets thrown to the other side of the room. The mattress was hanging off the frame, half on the floor half still on the frame. Atlanta was sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by open books and paper. She had a pen tucked behind her ear and she as holding her wand in her right hand while the other hand wrote.

She was working?

Sirius glanced around the room, looking for Tom Riddle, who wasn't grey and silver and see through like ghosts. If you didn't look closely, you wouldn't think he wasn't solid. Sirius thought it was the oddest thing he'd seen in his entire life the first time he'd been introduced to Tom. And that was even after being introduced to television. Tom Riddle the Not Ghost who was kind of a sociopath was still the strangest thing in the world as far as Sirius was concerned.

Tom was sitting on the window sill, his fifteen year old form draped dramatically. He was twirling a pen in his long, slim fingers as he pointedly glared out the window with an ugly scowl on his face. Sirius could see magic sparking off the pen as it smoothly moved between Tom's fingers.

"I wish I had a freaking computer," Atlanta grumbled. "This would be so much better with a damn word processor."

Sirius was too mad and angry to actually ask her what the hell she was talking about. He figured it was like a _cell phone_— whatever that was. She always wanted one of those in times of need. Or a _pager._ Once she wanted to page Dumbledore when she'd had problems with something.

"Can you have a lucid moment, please?" he demanded and Tom snorted darkly. "I need to talk to SOMEONE."

"I'm very lucid, Sirius Black," she snapped. "What you think is insanity, is actual truth. I'm not insane. A little whacky, but I'm not insane, batty, mad, or crazy. I'm very sane. A few times I thought I might be a bit mental, but I went to a Muggle doctor and was cleared for any mental illnesses."

Tom scoffed.

"Muggle doctor? What do they know?" Sirius demanded.

"Plenty. The Wizarding world isn't very keen on mental illnesses, so I went Muggle. I'm as sane as you are."

"Oh, please, darling. You're judging your sanity based on the mutt?" Tom drawled, eyes still glued out the window.

Sirius growled.

Atlanta ignored them both. "I know things you do not about future events."

"Yeah, because you're from an alternative reality," Sirius mockingly replied.

"She's from the future, you mangy mutt," Tom grumbled, pushing himself off the window sill. He stalked across the room, dropping the magical pen on the ground next to Atlanta. "Put my room back in order when you're done, won't you, sweetheart?"

Atlanta huffed, but waved her wand at something and a paper flew over to her. She caught it, stared at it, then threw it behind her. Tom sauntered off passing through Sirius (just because he could) and silently "walked" off. (Atlanta had laced her magic all through the flat to allow Tom to be "solid" like a normal human being. Things not magicked, Tom passed through. Sirius was one of his all time favorite things to walk through.)

Sirius seethed for a moment after the rather uncomfortable feeling of being walked through wore off, then walked in and righted the over turned chair. He sat down and pointedly looked at Atlanta.

"Sirius, you broke up with Remus because you think he's a spy and it disgusts you. Since you began thinking he was up to no good, you've slowly withdrawn from him, yet you still love him. It is making you sick how much you still love him even though you think he's betrayed you."

Atlanta paused, still writing with one hand and doing some sort of spell with the other. More papers flew over to her. She glared at the sheets before sending them back at the lopsided bed. The papers slid off. Hearing this, she waved her wand and the mattress flew back on the frame. She flicked her wand again and the sheets put themselves on the bed. With another wand movement, the papers flew up and landed on the bed.

"Remus is not the spy and I'm ashamed you even think that."

Sirius shifted in the chair. Raking a hand through his greasy hair he cringed, partly because of what Atlanta had said, partly because he realized he was channeling Snape with his hair.

"Now, since I have been here and have done and said things, I had hoped the spy might not be Peter. That is why I didn't say anything. When the three of you all got into serious relationships your seventh year, I hung out with Peter. I always hypothesis the reason he did what he did in my time was because he was lonely. I— I failed with Reggie and with Severus. Though, to be honest, I kind of figure Severus was a lost cause, but I still had to try. Maybe he'll be nicer to Harry in the future? I don't know. The damage was already done to his friendship with Lily, so I didn't know how to fix it. But, Reggie….oh, Reggie."

Suddenly her wand clattered to the floor and the pen shortly followed. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders and creating a curtain.

"I could have saved him," she said into her hands. "I knew he needed someone to just listen, to show they cared. He had those lost little boy eyes." She lifted her face out of her palms and stabbed Sirius with a look. "You left him in that house alone! You left him behind and made him think you didn't give a damn! You picked POTTER over your own damn brother. Do you know what that did to him? When you turned your back on him because he went into Slytherin?"

Sirius wanted to argue with her, but sparks were flying through her hair. The last time that had happened, she'd punched him and broke his nose. Instead, he balled his fists and dug his fingers into his palms.

"I know you think the Marauders are your family. That's fine. But, you didn't need to pick on your brother, ignore your brother."

"HE BELIEVED ALL THAT PURE BLOOD SHIT!" Sirius screamed at her.

"Not fully, Sirius. He believes in family. That is the blood he believes in," she said in a low dangerous tone. "You are his blood. He wanted to bring honor the family, he wanted to make his parents proud. While I know you never cared two shits about that, he did. But, he never bought into the whole thing with Muggles and Muggleborns. He never fully believed in keeping the blood 'pure.' He just wanted to honor and make the family proud. After he got to Hogwarts, he didn't see the differences your family had pointed out to him for years. He saw the same things YOU DID. He's watched people, he pays attention. The only difference between the two of your is that he's not as brave as you are. He's scared."

She broke a little bit, cracking at the seams she had sewn together over the years. Casting her eyes away from Sirius, she looked distraught, lost.

"He was scared, so he did what your insane mother told him to do after you ran away," she spat out. "You left him there alone and there was no one else for your mother to focus on, so she put all her attention to Reggie. Do you know what his mission was, Sirius? Do you?"

"Kill Muggles? Wipe the Muggleborns out?"

"No," she said coldly, casting her eyes back to him. They were a strange greenish yellow shade and slightly glowing. Without thinking, he took a step backwards. "His mission was to bring me into the fold, to make me into a Death Eater."

She laughed. It was bitter and empty. Atlanta's laugh tore through Sirius. He stared at her as she sat in a mess of papers in the room, her hair still hiding her face from him.

"Voldemort knew there was something about me, knew there was something that could benefit his play for world domination. He didn't give two shits about my so called family connections in America. I'm pretty sure he knows I have about as many family connections as he does. No, he saw something in me that reminded him of someone," she went on. She looked bitter. "I'm powerful, just like her. I'm alone. Except for Reggie. He'd spied on me enough my first year here to know that Reggie was the one thing that meant anything to me. So, he took Reggie from me. To get me on his side."

"You stopped talking to Reggie when you found out what Voldemort really wanted, didn't you?" Sirius asked, frowning. "It wasn't because he was a Death Eater."

He could feel his anger ebbing away. His situation was suddenly the furthest thing from his mind. His heart might be in pieces, but it'd only been like that for two weeks. And it was all his own making. Atlanta had spent almost three years with her heart in tatters and she'd never spoken to anyone about it.

"Yeah. I knew the moment— ouch," she said, her voice going high as she slapped her right hand over her left forearm.

Right where a Dark Mark would be located. Sirius stared at her bare arm. She was breathing heavily, curled into herself.

"I don't deal well with pain," she muttered, slowly removing her hand from her bare arm. She stared at her forearm, almost waiting to see what was going to happen to it.

"What just happened?"

"Reggie was called," she muttered quietly. She pursed her lips together. "I wish he'd stop loving me."

Sirius stared at her. Questions rolled around his head. She glanced up at him, sighing deeply.

"When Reggie is in pain, I feel it. I sense when he's near. I can freaking feel him," she spat out. "I knew he became a Death Eater on his birthday. His sixteenth birthday."

Sirius felt all the air leave his lungs.

"I was minding my own business, trying to work on a spell I'd been assigned and my left forearm burned like a million knives were shoving themselves through my veins. It went through my entire body. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but the next day I met up with him to celebrate his birthday and I understood. I can see magic and I know, thanks to Tom, what Moldy's magic looks like. The Dark Mark is visible to me when its used to call and when it's fresh. It takes twenty-fours hours for the Moldy's magic to seep in and take hold. Throughout that summer my arm would hurt and sometimes…It was worst than when they later put the Cruciatus Curse on him."

Sirius' blood froze.

"They do that to him a lot," she admitted quietly. "After it was clear his mission failed…it was days of pain. I don't know what they did to him, but I was afraid they'd killed him. But, he's still alive, clearly."

She threw her head into her hands again, yanking at her hair.

"Why won't he stop loving me! I told him I hated him, I told him I no longer loved him."

"You lied."

"He doesn't know that," she admitted quietly. "I know he thinks it is true."

"He could be staying away for your own good," Sirius suggested. "Because he knows Voldemort wants you."

"No. He knows I don't love him," she insisted. "I'm a good actress when I want to be. Malfoy used to tell me I should go into Muggle films if all else failed."

"Malfoy?"

"Never mind. I know Reggie believes it and isn't doing this for my own good because he was despondent. He's tried a few times to get me to talk to him. I've said horrible things to him. Really horrible things," she muttered. She curled into herself, falling sideways on the ground. "But he won't stop. He just won't stop loving me and it's killing me. Since the first day I saw him, I've been able to feel him. Here."

She hit herself over her heart.

"I could feel him before I fucking saw him. I knew he was watching me and it felt so much differently than when you stared at me, or anyone else for that matter. I could never feel you or anyone else staring at me, unless they were glaring or something. But, Reggie…I felt him before I ever saw him. Then, the night he became a Death Eater, I felt pain for the first time. I had no idea what the hell was going on. I thought I was going insane. Or more insane, to you."

She bitterly laughed.

"It wasn't until someone tried to kill him with a Bludger I figured out it wasn't just Moldy."

Sirius noticed she was holding her wrist. Sirius remembered that Quidditch match. He was seated next to Atlanta, who was only sitting with them because she wanted to sit with Remus. She usually sat with her fellow Ravenclaws, but that game, they'd been chattering on about some charm she was working on. Sirius knew neither of them were paying attention, but just as Reggie was hit, suddenly Atlanta had screamed, holding her wrist as if it was broken. Sirius was the only one who did not stare at Atlanta because he was watching his brother fall off his broom after getting hit with a Bludger.

Regulus never hit the ground, as someone slowed him down, but he'd broken his wrist badly. The bone was poking out. Atlanta was in tears, yet no one could figure out what the problem was. She wouldn't let anyone take her hand off her right wrist. She simply sobbed and curled into herself.

It had been bizarre. It made Sirius think she was really bat shit crazy.

Lily had taken her to the Hospital Wing, which was crazy after the match. The Slytherin Beaters had injured almost everyone on the Gryffindor team it seemed.

"I figured it out the moment I saw him," she said. "I put it together. I hurt because he hurt."

"That's…."

"Twisted? Insane? Crazy? Unheard of?"

"No. Not unheard of," Sirius admitted, remembering Remus could "feel" him. Not to the degree Atlanta felt Reggie, though. He was sure the elder Potters could feel when something was wrong with one another. James and Lily could to a degree, especially after they were married. "Sometimes when wizards connect…it's on a very deep level. And maybe…you're being…wolfish had something to do with it?"

Remus' connection to Sirius was more intense than James and Lily's, or even Sirius' to Remus. Sirius knew this for a fact. They'd always figured it was due to his being a werewolf. Sirius had never thought how Atlanta's unique abilities would affect this.

Sirius felt his mouth drop open. He stared at the broken girl on the floor, surrounded by books, parchment and paper.

She was massively, hopelessly and forever in love with his stupid, idiotic little brother. While Sirius had known she loved Regulus, he had never thought about the degree of her love, nor how it would affect her. Regulus, because he failed to have wolfish qualities, would not be effected as strongly, no matter how deeply he loved her or vise versa.

Regulus's deep love, though, was torturing the poor girl.

"Maybe," she admitted. "I'm sorry. You came here to talk to me about Remus and I've been a total bitch."

She slowly pushed herself up slowly. He could tell by the tension in her body, she was waiting for more pain, waiting for the Death Eaters to hurt Regulus. Sirius realized this was a large part of the reason she never joined the Order and hardly left her own flat. Besides the fact Voldemort was stalking her and wanted her, she never knew when Reggie would be called, tortured, or hurt. She'd be unable to go on missions, take part in battles, or hold down a regular job.

Hell, the few times they'd seen her in public before she completed her Mastery were fleeting and she always left for strange reasons.

She was lucky she was a Spellsmith.

"Does it happen often?" Sirius asked quietly as she neared him.

"Too often recently. Since he graduated." Her eyes were glued to the floor. "I don't think he's very high up, but he seems to mess up a lot. I don't think his heart is really in it, so he gets…in trouble. A lot. It's not always the Cruciatus Curse. They have a wide array of curses. Though, I can always tell if it's Voldemort or Bellatrix. He's messed up only three times and gotten the wrath of Voldemort. That really sucked. More often, he gets handed over to Bellatrix. Because he's her cousin and her responsibility."

She sniffed loudly and brushed passed Sirius. He followed her back into the lounge.

"So, you two broke up right before he went on his big mission?" Atlanta asked.

"Yes."

He didn't bother to ask her how she knew Remus was on a mission. He was just happy she knew and he didn't have to explain.

"Idiot," she muttered. "When will he be back?"

"He didn't know really. He wouldn't tell me. But, he said he'd be gone for a long time," Sirius admitted. "Dumbledore wouldn't tell me anything either. I think Dumbledore warned Remus about something…having to do with me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, during our fight he yelled something about Dumbledore being right there was no room for love in this war," Sirius admitted slowly. "That was when I screamed I hated him and he disgusted me."

She nodded. "You really shouldn't have done that, Sirius."

"I know. I also yelled about betrayal, trust and a lot of other things. I told him I didn't love him."

"You love him and I know he's not a spy. You know Remus. You know him so well, Sirius. How can he be a spy?"

"How can Peter?" Sirius snapped. "How can I trust anyone!? I'm serious, Atlanta. How can we trust anyone in this environment? How can I trust you? How did you even know about the mission? Remus said that no one was supposed to know! Are you the spy?"

Atlanta snorted. "How could I spy on y'all? I don't go to your meetings. I only meet with Dumbledore in his office at Hogwarts."

"So, tell me again, how can I trust anyone?"

"You can't! This is what Voldemort does best! Voldemort spreads discord and misery and stomps on y'all!" she shouted, heading into her kitchen. He heard her slam cabinets. "Dictators all behave the same way. They start by promising great things, promising things a group desires. The group is powerful, so his movement and promises gain ground. Slowly, he seeps into everything, weaves himself through the group till he basically brainwashes this group. Once the group is in place, he attacks."

The water ran, then the kettle clicked on. She came out of the kitchen and met his eyes. The stormy grey eyes met equally stormy green-grey.

"If you studied history, you'd see what is happening. Only, he will succeed unless…unless…something major happens. He's powerful and unlike Muggle dictators, there isn't a huge group of countries with huge armies to bring him down. The wizarding world doesn't have a standing army. No standing military. British wizarding society is so ill prepared."

She tore her eyes away from him and sighed deeply.

"It's happening. And it has to," she muttered.

She turned, walking across the room towards the dormer windows that lined the wall of the sitting room. She had a great view of the park from the third floor. She put her hands behind her back and Sirius could see she was digging her nails into her skin.

"No one can change time. That's the wizarding law," she whispered, still looking out the center window. "There are fixed points in time, those cannot change. I tried. Things are still happening as they did before."

"Are you a Seer?" Sirius asked. "Because you're talking like one. Kind of."

Sirius ventured further into the room, noticing the kettle was boiling on the stove already. He went into her kitchen, which was open to the lounge (which was kind of weird, but this was Atlanta, her whole flat was strange). He fixed the tea he assumed she'd started and took it into the lounge, setting the cups on the coffee table. Atlanta turned at the noise and sat down in a chair near the couch.

"You could say that," she offered. She looked throughly downtrodden. "I can't save them. It's a fixed point. Tragically."

She had a far away look on her face. She turned her head again and stared back out the window. Sirius frowned. He had no idea what she was really talking about, but he felt it wasn't good.

"Sirius, I know this doesn't make sense. I know I don't make sense," she began, turning back to him. "But, I'm sorry. I wanted to save everyone, I wanted to end this before it got too far, but I don't know enough. I'm missing key information, but, clearly…are not all that different. I'm…I can't save everyone, but…you'll be okay."

"I will?"

"Yes. Remus will forgive you," she said. "Even if I don't know some things, I know he will. He loves you like he loves to breathe. He'll come back and you will fix what you broke. He's not a spy."

"But, I won't see him for a long time," Sirius pouted. His heart shattered further. He felt broken. "I…I made such a mess. I hurt him. Like you did Reggie. I said things… horrible things."

"Did you accuse him of being a Death Eater?"

"No. Not outright," Sirius admitted. "I told him I hated him. That I couldn't love someone like him. I also…said things about him being a werewolf."

Atlanta sighed. "You will live through this. So will Remus. You will find one another again, you'll be on equal footing again and things will be fine. But…trust…it'll be hard to trust in this war. Don't trust people, Sirius. I know this is horrible for me to tell you, but you can't just trust someone because they are your friend. You cannot just trust someone because you think they have your best interest at heart. You need to think. You MUST think before you act, Sirius. It's the only way to save yourself. And the ones you love."

"How can I trust you, if what you are saying is true?"

"You can't," Atlanta replied. "You'll need to take a leap of faith."

She picked up her tea and sipped it slowly. Sirius held his in his hands, staring out her window.

"You're flat is weird."

"I know. I have my own taste," she offered lightly. He noticed the tension leaving her as she sipped the tea. She had Think Face on. "I will save Reggie."

"How?" Sirius couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know yet, but I don't think I have a lot of time," Atlanta offered. She frowned. "You can't go back to your flat. Stay here."

"What? Why?"

"You broke up with the love of your life who you lived with, Sirius Black," she reminded him. "You came here for a reason. You could have gone to James or Peter, but you came here."

"Peter lives with his mum. James lives with Lily."

"Lily would be great comfort," Atlanta pointed out. "She's good at comfort. Me? Not so much. We basically have spent the past hour and half fighting with one another."

"James and Lily would…they wouldn't have believed me. They wouldn't have heard me out," Sirius admitted, staring in the murky tea. "I…I know you don't think Remus is a Death Eater or a spy, but…you heard me. James wouldn't have heard me out like you did. Lily would have let me shout, she would have shouted as well, but…"

"Lily isn't broken," Atlanta quietly said.

"No. Lily isn't. She and James are happy."

"You needed a broken person."

"No, I needed someone who was in love with the enemy."

"You still believe it, then? Remus is a Death Eater?"

"I…I don't know any more. I have to figure it out on my own," Sirius said. "I have to know."

"Did you look at his arm?"

"Greyback doesn't have a Dark Mark," Sirius replied darkly.

"Point. But, would Remus honestly aline himself with Greyback?"

Sirius sunk onto the couch and didn't answer her. They both knew the answer.

"I have work to do," she said. "I'll open up the upstairs Tom and I added on. Tom won't let you have his room."

She gracefully stood up and moved with ease out of the room. Sirius drained his mug and grabbed hers and drained it. He hadn't brought anything with him, but he didn't care. Atlanta appeared a short while later holding a stack of folded clothing.

"Here. I transformed some of my stuff into dude wear. Please take a shower. You smell like dirty dog," Atlanta said, wrinkling up her nose.

Sirius took the offered clothing, making no comment.


	30. I Don't Need Saving

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

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**_I Don't Need Saving_**

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Everything always happened at once. Nothing ever happened in stages.

Sirius should have remembered that was how life worked.

He didn't, so it was a bit of a shock when all hell broke loose one night.

One minute, the flat was quiet— the only noise coming from the television and the scratching of the chosen writing instrument Atlanta was using while she was doing whatever at the dining room table. The next, there was a loud crack, Atlanta screamed, and the whole flat was filled with a blaring, jarring, ear bursting alarm. Lights even began flashing. Sirius vaulted out of his seat, wand drawn and ready to attack whatever the hell was attacking the flat.

"Kreacher!" Atlanta shrieked.

Sure enough, Kreacher was standing on the other side of the table, opposite Atlanta. He looked worse for wear and proceeded to topple over. Sirius barely had time to take this in, due to the flashing lights and ear shattering, high pitched, screeching noise. Atlanta catapulted over the table, landing next to Kreacher.

"What happened? Why are you here?" she shouted at the elf on the floor as Sirius moved to stand next to her, his wand now pointed at his family's crotchety, old House Elf.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to hide so no one can find him. No one finds Miss Addy," Krecaher croaked out.

"ATLANTA!" Sirius shouted over the noise of the alarm, putting his hand over his ears before his brain melted and oozed out.

"What is going on out here?!" Tom demanded appearing in the doorway to the entry.

"Oh, alarm."

Atlanta waved her wand and the noise ceased, but the lights continued to flash.

"What is that?" Tom asked, taking a few steps further into the room. He looked confused, as if he had never seen a House Elf before.

Sirius stared at the dirty elf, taking a few steps towards Kreacher.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Kreacher sat up, staring at Sirius with loathing, but refrained from saying anything. Oddly. The ugly Elf looked smug about it as well.

"Regulus is here," Atlanta said as if it happened daily.

"WHAT?" Sirius yelled while Kreacher began to wail all of a sudden.

Tom made a noise of disgust, threw his arms up and stalked out of the room.

"Reggie has always been able to find me," Atlanta admitted. At the look on Sirius's face, she added, "But, the Death Eaters and Moldy can't find me."

"But, they know how to disable the Death Eater wards!" Sirius shouted.

"I'm my own Secret Keeper you moron!" Atlanta shouted. "Calm the hell down, Sirius."

Kreacher began to mutter under his breath, but never loud enough for Sirius to understand. Sirius balled his fists but refrained from shouting at Atlanta, who stood up and went over to the window. She peered out the window. She sighed deeply.

"Kreacher, please go in the, uh, closet," Atlanta said.

Without pause, Kreacher stood up and vanished into a small doorway off the dinning area.

"You have a House Elf housing?" Sirius yelled.

"Sure," she said, but didn't offer any other explanation. She was still staring out the window. Looking at the tiny door he'd never noticed before, he figured she did not have a House Elf, as it seemed Tom had never seen one before.

Sirius crossed the room and joined her. Sure enough, his younger brother was pacing back and forth in front of the building. He appeared agitated and jumpy. Even from a distance, Regulus looked unhealthy. Next to Sirius, Atlanta sighed deeply again, rubbing her left arm absently.

"Do you have any idea what the hell is going on? Since when was your flat under a Fidlius Charm?"

"Since I moved in," she replied. "Only you, Remus and Lily actually know where I live. Hence the House Elf housing. One of the Hogwarts Elves does all the shopping for me and I made sure he or she had a place to sleep if needed. I don't leave the flat unless I have to. No one can see me except Tom, you, Remus, Dumbledore, the Potters and Pettigrew. I put myself under the Fidlius Charm after we graduated, remember?"

"So you're double protected?" Sirius asked, having forgotten she'd placed herself under the charm.

She nodded her head.

"Can Regulus see you if you go out there?"

"No. He won't be able to see me. He'll know I'm there. And he can hear me. Anyone can hear me."

"He can't see the building?"

"I don't think he knows how to even get into the building," Atlanta commented. "Muggle things confused most wizards. The entrance is very Muggle. The first time they came here, they did blast down the door, but after that they couldn't find me. I only put the flat under the charm, not the whole building. Since he's not blasting down the door, I have a feeling he's not here to attack."

"You've had Death Eaters attack you here?"

"They've tried. They have failed," she said flippantly. "Lily, Tom and I are currently working on a charm like the Muggle Repellant charm that would work on wizards. We're going to test it on the flat in a few weeks. That'll repel Death Eaters from the entire building like we wizards repel Muggles from places like the Leaky Cauldron."

Without another word, she Apparated. Sirius saw her popped into existence right in front of Regulus. He must have heard the pop as his brother jumped ten feet into the air. Sirius could tell his brother's eyes were darting around, looking for Atlanta. Regulus couldn't see her, but his eyes settled on the space right in front of him where Atlanta was standing with her arms folded, a guarded expression on her face.

Sirius opened the window, training his wand at his brother. Since he was in the secret protected flat, he wasn't worried about Regulus seeing him hanging out the window casting a eavesdropping spell.

"He turned up?"

Sirius almost fell out the window at Tom's question. Sirius didn't bother to answer, but held his wand to his lips and then pointed it back at Regulus. He felt the magic that made up Tom lean closer to hear what Sirius was hearing.

"Atlanta?" Regulus asked, in a rather high voice.

"Here."

Regulus sighed, relaxing a bit. He took a step closer to where she was standing, coming to rest just inches away from her. Atlanta tensed up, but Regulus sighed and relief seeped into his body language.

"I'm just going to talk to you," he said, then began whispering quickly.

Sirius leaned out the window to hear better, but he couldn't make out anything Regulus was saying. Recasting the charm, all he could hear was buzzing. He looked to Tom, who shrugged, suggested a few spells, but the buzzing kept happening. The pair gave up and took to simply watching.

Whatever Regulus was saying was causing Atlanta to smile. She nodded a few times, before remembering he couldn't see her. She began to whisper to Regulus, leaning in closer to his brother's ear. Sirius noticed when she did this, Regulus closed his eyes, clearly feeling her even if he couldn't see her. Regulus nodded a few times as she whispered at him. He reached out blindly and managed to find her forearm. He gripped it. Atlanta bent her head till it rested on Regulus' shoulder.

"Kreacher is with you?" Regulus asked, the buzzing suddenly stopping.

Once again, Sirius almost fell out the window. Oddly, Tom attempted to grab him, as the cold, shivery feeling of Tom's hands going through Sirius sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes. He showed up moments before you did," Atlanta replied in a normal voice.

Regulus dropped her arm and Atlanta lifted her head. They both took a step backwards.

"He will stay till I need him…then, may he return?"

"What about your mother?"

"There are other House Elves to care for her and father," Regulus said. "I do not want him there. I want to leave him to you. Please."

"All right," Atlanta agreed. "I don't like your plan."

"That no longer matters. I know what I am doing."

"But—" Atlanta started, but stopped.

"It's a lifetime commitment, Addy," Regulus said, hanging his head.

Atlanta took her wand out. She rocked back and forth, debating something for a moment, while Regulus brooded. She reached forward and took his hand. Regulus' head jerked up. She pressed her wand to his wrist, muttering something. Regulus glowed bright blue for a moment, though it didn't seem he noticed this. The blue light sucked into him, then poured into her wand, channeling itself into her hand, settling at a point in her left wrist.

"Well, I wish you luck, Reggie," Atlanta said quietly, squeezing his hand.

"I wish I could see you," he said sadly.

She lifted his hand and placed it on her face. Sirius, feeling that Regulus wasn't about to do anything stupid, cast his eyes away from the pair, shutting the window. Tom made some sort of noise that was between a huff and snort. He stalked silently back out of the lounge. Sirius heard him slam a door in the back of the flat. A moment later there was a soft pop and Atlanta appeared back in the flat. She stared at her wrist for a moment. The bright blue dot on her wrist blinked for awhile until it turned black.

"He's home," she replied.

"What did you to do him?"

"Placed a tracking charm Tom and I created on him. We haven't tested it out yet," she admitted. "But since he's…well, it doesn't matter. I can't tell you. He doesn't want you in danger."

"But, he put you in danger?"

"No. He didn't. He didn't tell me exactly what he was doing. I _know_. Or have an inkling. Somehow, tonight the memory charm Dumbledore put on him a few years ago broke. Though, he didn't tell me it broke. Or maybe— never mind. Dumbledore forbade me to speak of it in front of people," she explained. "The one time I did, he wiped Regulus' memory of it."

She let out a puff of air. She stopped staring at her wrist and pursed her lips together. She put on Think Face and Sirius knew he'd lost her to her thoughts. He wanted to scream and shout at her. His brother was in danger. He could feel it in his bones, Reggie was in danger. He was leaving the Death Eaters and he was going to his death and knew it.

"He came to say goodbye," Sirius realized, sitting down hard on the couch.

Kreacher was the ONLY thing Regulus cared about (other than Atlanta) and he'd willed him to Atlanta. From Kreacher's behavior, the House Elf now belonged to Atlanta.

"He is not going to die," Atlanta suddenly said. "I'm going to save him. I don't know how, but I'll save him."

Sirius turned around, taking the fierce look on her face. She was going to do something really stupid, that much Sirius was sure of.

"And you? Who is going to save you?"

The words hung in the air between them. Her face softened a bit. She put that damn crooked smile on her face (which made his heart tug in his chest so hard he thought he was going to burst into tears) and said, "I'm the hero, Sirius. I don't need to be saved."


	31. It's In The Cards

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. Parts taken from ****_Half Blood Prince_**** and ****_Deathly Hallows_****, both by JKR.**

_A/N: It's been awhile since I've said this, but I really appreciate the reviews, follows and favorites. Especially when people actually like Atlanta as a character. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and pointing things out I've missed in my self-editing. _

_Edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_It's In The Cards_**

* * *

Regulus sat down heavily on his bed, hand still on his cheek where Addy's hand had rested moments ago. He had been unable to see her, but he could feel her presence, hear her voice and then she touched him.

It had been so long since someone had touched him without wanting to hurt him, he almost broke into tears.

He pulled a stack of cards off his bedside table and flipped the first one over.

Death. Upside down.

Change. Painful and unpleasant.

He slipped the card back into the pile and shuffled again. He flipped the next card over.

The Devil.

Great. This was turning out to be a great idea, Regulus thought scathingly.

True evil was coming his way.

Shoving the card back into the pile, he flipped the next one over.

The Fool. Right side up.

A new beginning. Important decisions were going to be made and hopefully it'd turn out all right.

Sighing, he put the cards back on his bedside table. He had kept the card deck there since he graduated, occasionally grabbing it and flipping cards over.

The cards never had anything good to tell him. Death, destruction and pain.

Regulus' life was pretty much filled with those three things constantly. He was miserable and scared but he now saw a light at the end of the long, dark tunnel he'd been walking down for the past year.

It was almost over. He knew he ought to not feel so much relief at the thought of being dead, but he simply was unable to help it. He felt like he'd been awake for over a year and it was nearing bedtime.

"Regulus?"

Regulus startled, eyes flying to the now open door of his bedroom. His father filled the doorway, studying his youngest son carefully.

"Yes, Father?"

"Where is Kreacher?"

Regulus gestured for his father to enter the room. Orion Black had not set foot in the bedroom since his youngest was a small child, but he entered smoothly and swiftly as if he did it daily. Orion shut the door and waved his wand. Regulus knew he was silencing the room from eavesdroppers, such as his mother and Bellatrix, who had taken to haunting Gimmauld Place, likely to keep Regulus in line and watching his father. The conversation he had had with his father the day after his branding was still fresh in his memory.

Both Black males both knew their time was up. Regulus could read it in the lines of his father's face, see it in his eyes and felt it in the gaze that now landed on him.

"Where is Kreacher?" Orion repeated.

"I sent him to Atlanta. No one can find her or see her. I told him that she was his mistress now and he must obey her."

Orion looked uneasy.

"Will he follow? He is rather devoted to your mother as well as you," Orion reminded Regulus.

"I think after tonight, he will stay with her till she tells him to leave," Regulus said, looking back at the table where his card deck sat.

Orion pulled out the desk chair and set it down across from Regulus. "Tell me."

Regulus took a deep breath and began speaking.

"The Dark Lord needed a House Elf. Bellatrix volunteered Kreacher. She knew he meant something to me and for punishment in my failures, she believed that getting rid of Kreacher might work better than their other methods, as those failed."

Regulus stared at the carpet, unable to look at his father. They both knew the methods used against him for his failures this past year.

"So, Lord Smurf requested Kreacher from me. Before I sent Kreacher off with him, I told Kreacher a load of hogwash. How great an honor it was for the family and myself and that he must make sure he did whatever Lord Smurf told him to do."

"You did not refer to Riddle as Lord Smurf to Kreacher, did you?"

Regulus' head jerked up and met his father's stormy blue-grey gaze. His father was wearing a small smirk, something Regulus had not seen on his usually serious father's face in what seemed like eons.

"I do not believe I did," Regulus admitted. "I cannot believe I said that out loud."

"I have no idea what a Smurf happens to be, but after this conversation, I'd like you to explain it."

Regulus nodded. His father indicated with a wave of his hand to continue.

"I told Kreacher that after the Dark Lord was finished with him, to come home. And with that he popped out of the house."

Regulus cast his eyes back to the ground.

"He returned earlier tonight. He was sick, weak and very thirsty. He coughed up whatever Lord Smurf had poisoned him with when I fed him some antidote. I gave him water and tested the poison. It was Darkest Nightmare Poison."

Regulus glanced up. Orion made no noise, but by the size of his eyes, Regulus knew his father had heard of it.

"I guess it is not fatal to Elves," Orion said softly.

Regulus nodded. "I made Kreacher tell me everything that had happened to him. He told me what the Dark Lord did, step by step. Lord Smurf made Kreacher drink the poison. Once he had done this, the Lord Smurf dropped a locket into a basin and left, leaving Kreacher behind."

"And since you ordered him home, he came home."

Regulus nodded.

"Kreacher tried to drink the water from the lake this island was located in and was attacked by Inferi. From his descriptions, the entire lake is filled with dead bodies."

Regulus glanced up and saw his father blanch.

"After Kreacher told you his tale, you sent him to Miss Black's?"

"Yes. Lord Smurf believes Kreacher is dead."

"Fool."

Regulus nodded his agreement.

"It is like him to under estimate a House Elf. So, what do you believe the locket to be?"

"Something happened when Kreacher told me about the locket. I remembered something," Regulus said quietly. "Atlanta found this object in the Room of Hidden Things at Hogwarts in my fifth year. It was a crown or something and it caused her to get very excited. We took it to Dumbledore, but then it goes fuzzy."

"He _Obliviated_ you."

"Yes. For my own good," Regulus assured his father. "Father, that crown was a horcrux."

Orion gasped. "A horcrux?"

Regulus watched his father clench and un-clench his fists, yet he had a contemplative look on his face.

"How did you guess that?"

"It felt…wrong," Regulus said. "After Dumbledore erased whatever happened in the office. I remember…something happened and I was in the office. The crown was on the desk. I knew it was…evil. The crown. And after Kreacher told me what happened tonight, I suddenly realized it was in fact a horcrux and that locket must be one as well. The reason the meeting before Atlanta left that day is fuzzy was because Dumbledore didn't want me to remember, incase Lord Smurf went poking around my head."

"Did Dumbledore destroy the crown?"

"I have no idea. I don't know how to destroy them," Regulus admitted.

"I am sure Dumbledore does," Orion assured. A dark look passed over his father's face. "Riddle made two horocruxes."

"I fear he's made more," Regulus whispered. "I overheard Bella bragging to Mother about some cup Lord Smurf wanted to store in her vault."

"He split up his soul more than twice?"

Regulus could hear the disgust and sheer awe in his father's voice. Regulus nodded. He and his father sat in silence for a long while.

"What are you plans, son?"

"I'm going to get the locket," Regulus admitted. "I'm having Kreacher take me there in a few days."

He met his father eye. He did not need to say out loud he wasn't going to come back. They both knew it.

"You told Miss Black?"

"I told her what happened to Kreacher and I planned to get the locket. I did not need to tell her anything else. She knew."

Orion nodded. "I fear our time is short. Bellatrix's never ending presence in the house tells me the your Lord Smurf is closing in on me."

Regulus' heart constricted. He did not like hearing his father speak about his own demise so flippantly.

"I have everything in order, do not fear. Upon my own death, everything will automatically go to Sirius. He and only someone who does not wish to unseat him from his spot as Head of the Family will be able to access the box in the vault where the will is stored. Only after the will is read by Sirius will anyone be able to touch anything of value in my vault. Your mother, though, will keep access to her own vault till her death, then it'll revert to Sirius as well."

"Or someone who doesn't wish to unseat him as Head of Family," Regulus added.

Orion nodded.

"How will he find out?"

"I am sure after your mother passes, the Goblins will inform him. I've set funds up to transfer to him yearly up till her death. I doubt he will notice. He is somewhat oblivious."

Regulus snorted.

"He's staying with Atlanta."

Orion was silent for a long stretch. "Are you sure?"

"I could feel him in the flat, looking at me. I don't know where her flat is located, as it's under a charm to hide it, but I felt his eyes."

"I'm sorry."

"Sirius is gay, Father."

"He is?"

"Yes, Father."

Regulus peaked up through his hair to see how his father was taking this information. His father looked puzzled, but not upset.

"Blood adoption," his father muttered. "That'll have to be the manner our family is carried on. I'll add that to the box, as I doubt he'll think of it."

"Isn't that old, Dark magic?"

Orion nodded. "If performed on a newborn, it is very harmless. I'll leave details. I'm sure there is a part of him that wishes to carry on his own bloodline. He is a Black."

Regulus doubted it, but said nothing.

"Now, let's end our evening discussion on a brighter note. Tell me what a Smurf happens to be," Orion said, leaning back in the chair and lightly folding his arms across his chest.


	32. It's Worth Dying For

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. If you know it, it is from ****_Deathly Hallows _****or****_ Half-Blood Prince_**** by JKR. **

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_It's Worth Dying For_**

* * *

The sea air appeared as if it was biting the young man, sending his raven hair flying every direction. The young man was wearing Muggle clothing, plain jeans and a dark colored long sleeve t-shirt. He took a deep breath and gazed around the jagged rocks with his blue-grey eyes. Setting his face in a hard expression, he dove into the water, quickly followed by an ugly, old House Elf. The pair swam, coming up into an eerie cavern. It glowed slightly green. The young man and the House Elf both got out of the water. The young man cast a drying charm on both of them. They walked towards a solid rock wall.

"It needs blood, Master Regulus," the Elf said.

A quick cut in the young man's hand (even though the Elf volunteered a few times) and a doorway appeared. The pair walked through the door, then made their way along the shore. It took the young man awhile before he managed to find the boat even with the Elf's help. He loaded the Elf and himself into the boat. They reached an island that glowed green at the center of the still lake.

The young man approached the glowing bowl and stared at the contents. He looked at the Elf, then back at the basin. He seemed resigned, knowing what was required.

"Kreacher, I want you to switch out the lockets," the young man ordered, pulling a large, gold locket from his pocket. He handed it to the House Elf, Kreacher. "When the basin is empty, I want you to switch the lockets. After you have done this, you will leave. Without me. You will go home and never tell Atlanta, Mother or anyone in the family what I've done. You will destroy the locket, the one you will take from the basin after it is empty. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Regulus," Kreacher said, tears rolling down his face. He looked as if he wanted to argue. "Let me drink the potion."

"No, Kreacher. I must do this. Make sure I drink it all, no matter what? Do you remember all your orders?"

"Yes, Master Regulus."

Kreacher looked as if he would rather do anything but what his master requested, but he fed the potion to his master till it was all gone. His master screamed, pleaded, but drank the potion. Kreacher stood and switched the lockets out. He placed the gold, oval locket into his pocket and placed the much larger and square one into the basin. There was a loud noise that sounded like a collision of some sort and Kreacher looked up.

"Ouch!"

A young woman with short hair was lying in a heap on the other side of the island, almost in the water. She crawled further inland, somehow not disturbing the water. Standing, she was tall, thin and had straight mahogany hair cut in an angled bob. She was dressed oddly in black body hugging clothing, but the Kreacher didn't seem to mind this in the least. If anything, the Elf looked relieved to see her.

"Bugger!" the girl yelled suddenly, her eyes flashing in the dim light. She moved quickly and grabbed the feet of the young man, who'd crawled to the shores edge to drink the water. Hands, unearthly looking hands were grappling out of the water for the young man, who was struggling to drink the water in his hand.

"Kreacher, help!" the girl cried, attempting to drag the young man away.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to go home. Without him."

The Elf remained where he was, looking torn, tears streaming out of his large, ugly eyes.

"Kreacher! Help me!" the young woman ordered, dragging the young man out from the grasp of the undead hands that were trying to get out of the lake. She flicked her left wrist and her wand appeared in her hand. "_Incendio!"_

Fire shot out of her wand, causing the unearthly creatures to go back to where they'd come from.

Kreacher scampered forward and helped the young woman drag his Master away from the lake's edge. The young man struggled to get back to the water. The woman silently stunned him. He fell in a boneless heap.

"What does Mistress Lanta want of Kreacher?" Kreacher asked, looking like a great weight was lifted off of him.

"Follow Regulus' orders, except for the leaving him part. He told you to leave him, right?"

Kreacher nodded. The young woman rolled her eyes deeply. The young man began to make horrifying, inhuman sounds. Kreacher and the young woman looked at him worriedly. Then back at one another.

"What was that potion?"

"Do not know, Miss," Kreacher admitted. "Made Master scream and see bad things. Made Kreacher see bad things too."

The young woman frowned. She flinched at each sound the young man made, but looked into the bowl. She frowned upon seeing what was in the bowl.

"You will hide Reggie. Tell Dumbledore what happened here tonight. He's not a family member, so you can tell him," she ordered. "I know you're worried. He's dying. He's been poisoned. There's no antidote for humans— you're not dead, so there is clearly one for Elves— but, one spell then you can go."

Kreacher nodded, eyeing his unconscious, yet clearly dying master. The young woman froze for a moment, a look of pure dread on her face. She looked at something on her wrist, then waved her wand. If possible she looked more terrified. She began to feel around in her pockets.

"Crap. He's coming. Okay, right after the spell, go to Dumbledore."

Kreacher nodded.

She pulled her hands out of her pockets, flicking her wand into her wand again.

"_Temporis Obfirmoquinum!"_

White light shot out of her wand and hit the young man square in the chest. The force caused him to un-ball and lie flat on his back, almost looking peaceful. With that last spell, Kreacher grabbed onto his master and the memory faded away.

Dumbledore stood up, removing his head from the pensive. He regarded the Elf for a moment. He walked back around his desk and sat down. The Elf stood next to the unconscious body of his master.

"Thank you, Kreacher. You've been very brave. Will you be able to hide Regulus for the next fifteen years?"

Kreacher nodded.

"He's not dead. I believe Miss Black placed a Timelock spell on him that'll last exactly fifteen years." Dumbledore paused and watched the House Elf. "I do not know when or how he'll wake up. Miss Black was a Master Spellsmith. The youngest one in at least a millennium. It seems that spell was one of her own creation. What it will do, I'm not sure, but he seems to be in status."

The Elf gulped.

Dumbledore was fascinated by the Timelock spell Atlanta Black has placed on Regulus Black. The young man was locked in the state he was in when she placed the spell upon him. He wasn't breathing, he wasn't doing anything. He was literally frozen in the moment. He looked as if he were in fact dead or simply sleeping. The only reason Dumbledore even knew Regulus was alive was because he was still warm to the touch.

"Your master ordered you to never speak of these events?"

The Elf nodded.

"You will follow these orders?"

The Elf nodded vigorously.

"Very well. Thank you for brining me the locket. I will destroy it," Dumbledore informed him. "I doubt you'd be able to. But know, it will be destroyed."

"Kreacher must watch," the Elf said. "Master Regulus ordered me to destroy it."

"Very well," Dumbledore replied. "I will send one of the Hogwarts Elves to get you once I've made the preparations to destroy the locket."

The House Elf bowed. "May Kreacher go home?"

"Yes. You may."

With a crack the Elf vanished, along with the body of his master. Dumbledore sat back in his high back hair and steepled his fingers together. After putting some deep thought into the events having taken place that night, Dumbledore realized that Atlanta Black had figured out she'd traveled backwards in time and not to an alternative reality. She accepted this information. While Dumbledore did not subscribe to her theories on time travel, he did understand them. He knew she'd figured out where Draco Malfoy had gone and thus had decided to try to keep the timeline in tact as best she could now that she'd messed it up by simply existing in this time period.

She had allowed herself to replace Regulus and had gone to her own death tonight.

Draco Malfoy would have new memories or either be confused a great deal when his memories, soul and magic merged with his younger self.

From the memory Dumbledore had viewed, it was clear Regulus Black had gone to that place to die. That was the only way out of Lord Voldemort's service. He had willingly drunk the potion, which appeared to be a slow acting poison. Judging by Atlanta's reaction a moment before the Elf left the cave, Lord Voldemort was on his way, no doubt to see who had managed to get past all his defenses.

Lord Voldemort would meet Atlanta Black and more than likely kill her.

Dumbledore glanced at the night sky behind him. The sun was beginning to rise. In a few hours, students would be boarding the Hogwarts Express to begin another new school year. As he studied the sky, he noticed an owl flying towards him. Standing, he opened the window. The owl landed, holding out his leg. Dumbledore took the note and the owl left. Upon seeing the handwriting and feeling the weight, Dumbledore knew in his gut what it was.

Lord Voldemort had murdered Atlanta Dorothy (Siria) Black (Lupin).

Slicing the envelope open, he dumped the contents on his desk. There was another envelope addressed to Draco Malfoy and one for Remus Lupin. Lupin's envelope had a piece of paper stuck to it that said, "To be given to after my will comes out." Malfoy's had a note that said, "Give when he exhibits un-Malfoy like behavior."

There was also a letter for him. He read over the letter, sighing deeply.

"Such a waste of life," Dumbledore sighed deeply.

He folded the note back up and gazed at the locket.

"Two down. And who knows how many to go," Dumbledore muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He picked up the locket and walked over to one of the portraits. He pulled it and unlocked the tiny box Atlanta Black had designed for him till he could figure out how to destroy Horcruxes. Both Atlanta and Dumbledore had searched for books on Horcruxes. Dumbledore had been sure there were Dark Arts books that spoke of them in the library, but they'd been unable to find them. Even the collection of the darkest of the Dark books held nothing on Horcurxes.

He placed the locket in the box and finally headed to bed. Maybe the future Malfoy boy would know how to destroy them?


	33. Not In Kansas Anymore

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not claim to own it.**

_A/N: edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_Not In Kansas Anymore_**

* * *

"Get up."

"Go away."

"Get up, now."

"Tom, we do not like one another. Why are you in my room?"

"She's gone."

"Huh?"

Sirius sat up, feeling bleary-eyed and disorientated. The sun was rising slowly. It was much too early for Sirius to be awake. He did not even need to be at work today. Rubbing his eyes, he reopened them to find Tom still standing next to his bed, staring at something on the bedside table.

"What?"

"It's a letter for you," Tom replied. "I did not get one."

Tom folded his arms across his chest and let out an annoyed huff.

"When did she come in to give us these?"

"I don't think she came in. It appeared. It set the alarm off, you moron," Tom snapped. "How did you manage to sleep through the alarm?"

"How did you turn it off?" Sirius snapped.

Tom couldn't perform magic without Atlanta around, so if she was gone, the alarm ought to be going.

"Magic," Tom sneered, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

Sirius reached over and picked up the heavy envelope. Atlanta had been acting rather strange since Regulus had stopped by in the middle of the night a few weeks ago. She was secretive and refused to tell Tom or Sirius what she was up to. She spent hours upon hours in the study, occasionally fighting with Tom. She went so far as to kick Tom out of his own room, forcing Tom to sleep in the other bedroom upstairs across the hall from Sirius.

Sirius threw himself into his paperwork, which he had been ignoring for almost six months, so he wasn't too bothered by her lack of attention. He was bothered by Tom, who had taken to annoying the heck of him at every turn.

Sirius was amazed after three months she hadn't kicked him out of the flat. Especially after he and Tom had taken to bickering like an old married couple at every turn recently.

He ought to go to his own flat. He owned it.

He felt his stomach twist at the thought of going back to that flat. He should just sell it. It reminded him too much of Remus.

"AH! I DID GET ONE!"

Tom's voice boomed up the stairs in triumph. Rolling his eyes, Sirius flipped the envelope over and broke the seal.

_31 August 1979_

_Padfoot, _

_There are fixed points in time. These points will happen no matter how much meddling one does. No matter what one does, these fixed points will happen. Theory claims that if you mess with a fixed point, you'll tear a rip in the fabric of time. _

_I am not going to do that in the least, remember this. I'm not tearing a hole in reality. _

_There are things I wish to change, but can't change. There are things you might one day wonder, "Why didn't she do something if she knew this was going to happen?"_

_Fixed points, Padfoot. _

_Your brother becoming a Death Eater was a fixed point. I did all I could to prevent it, but it STILL happened. Even when I added myself to his life, he still wound up with that ugly mark on his arm. Thus, it is a fixed point. _

_I know certain future events— which at one time I thought I could change— need to remain fixed in order to not totally screw with the timeline. There is a reason those dumb wizards made time laws as they are and I know there is someone else out there who will allow us to change time. I still strongly believe that messing with ever changing things is fine, but certain events are very fixed in the future. This is fixed, written in the stars. While I don't read stars, some people do. Our Little Prince reads cards. So, I guess it's also written on the cards, in a sense. _

_It'd be easier if I knew what was fixed and wasn't, but I can only gauge. _

_I also know that I don't really belong here. I'm a whirlwind of change and am out of place, misplaced in time due to an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time during a non-fixed event that threw Draco Malfoy somewhere in the future. (Remember this, Pads. Remember this.) _

_I know you think I'm insane, but please, bear with me for a wee bit longer, dude._

_When you showed up a few months ago, a lot of puzzle pieces collided and the puzzle that was my life fell into order. I know what I am doing, what I should have been doing and what I must do in order to not totally screw things up for the future. Certain things must happen and I'm so sorry._**_ I am so sorry._**_ Just remember this one thing about me: I love your brother from the bottom of my heart and I always will. And in my own way, even when you're being an arrogant toe rag, I love you. Just in a different manner. _

_I know one day you and Moony will make up and remember that you do indeed love one another. At some point you'll give up thinking he's a Death Eater and spy. On this day, you will feel like a sack of dragon dung and hang your head and wallow in misery. For years upon years till you throw yourself at Moony's feet and beg for forgiveness. _

_To continue on with being cryptic and vague, tonight is another fixed point in time. However, I'm going to meddle with it and hope for the best. Please, when you find our Little Prince, take care of him. Introduce him to the wonderful people in your life and encourage him to live his life to the fullest. By the time you find him, I hope the world is changed for the better and the threat is over. If not, let him help. Our Little Prince has his heart in the right place._

_Also, please use commas. Lots and lots of commas. As Moony told you to say multiple times, "I do believe in commas, I do, I do."_

_I don't think I'm in Kansas any more. _

_Cheers,_

_Toto_

_P.S. You're welcome to remain at the flat till the end of time. If you would like to leave, lock the door. And leave a note with lots of commas for Riddler to read. Oh, and try to visit Riddler. You can fight some more._

Sirius looked up from the note, feeling rather bewildered. Tom was standing in the doorway, a look of loss on his face.

"She's dead."

Sirius blinked.

"That's why the notes appeared. She had them keyed to arrive in the event she died doing whatever she left to do last night."

Sirius found he could not breathe. He looked back at the letter in his hand. Sirius looked back at up at Tom to explain further.

Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times, before turning on his heel and stalking off. Sirius listened to the not ghost stomp down the magicked stairs and slam a magicked door. Following this, Tom let go of his anger and rage, his misery and grief.

Sirius was honestly amazed the flat didn't explode.


	34. The Fairytale Ending

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I fail to own it.**

_A/N: Edited and reloaded 30 June 2013_

* * *

**_The Fairytale Ending_**

* * *

**_4 May 1980_**

**_Son of Black Family Presumed Dead_**

**_By Kelvin Auctor_**

**_In the early hours of the morning of 2 September 1979, it was reported that Regulus A. Black, the heir to the Ancient and Nobel House of Black, was missing. Black has not been seen for eight months. Today, it was announced the youngest member of the Black Family has been presumed dead. His last whereabouts were the Black Family home in London on 31 August 1979. The Black family, known for their Dark associations, declined to comment on the young Black's political afflictions and possible reasons for his disappearance. _**

**_"We'd just like any information on his whereabouts," Sirius Black, disowned son, stated. "We'd also like any information on the location of Atlanta Black."_**

**_Atlanta D. Black, an American Master Spellsmith, had been seen often in the company of the missing Black during their time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She has not been seen since the night of 31 August 1979. Her last known location was her flat in Glasgow, Scotland. _**

**_It is believed the two Blacks were together on the night in question. _**

**_The Master Spellsmith has no known family. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, stated, "Miss Black is an orphan. Her parents died over ten years ago. It is my fear she's followed the way of her parents." (Story continues on page five)_**

Remus Lupin put the newspaper down and watched Circe Hilderbatch as she hurried around the room. She had a handful of potion vials, which she seemed at a loss on what to do with. Frowning, he folded the paper up. He glanced at the other letters Circe had brought him with his morning tea. It was the day after the full moon and he was recovering in her sanctuary she'd founded for werewolves. For the first time in a long time, Remus didn't feel like death warmed over after the full moon.

"Sirius' brother is dead," he informed Circe. She set a vial in front of him and took the paper. "And our friend Atlanta. I didn't even know she was missing."

"I'm sorry. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, eyeing him carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder carefully.

"I'm not sure. I knew them both, but I haven't seen Regulus since we graduated school," Remus replied. He downed whatever potion she'd given him. "I hadn't seen Atlanta before I left. The last time I was back home, no one mentioned to me she'd been missing since August. Actually, James and Lily told me they hadn't heard from her lately, but not that she was missing."

Circe grunted, placing a hand on her belly. She was beginning to show when she wore Muggle clothing, which was what usually Circe Hilderbatch chose to wear while she worked in the Hospital Wing after the full moon. Remus glanced around the room. Most of the other werewolves were still asleep this early in the morning. It was clear to Remus he was the only one to react positively to the current potion Circe was testing.

"So, erm, how is the pregnancy going?" Remus asked, frowning. He wasn't sure what was so off about Circe Hilderbatch (other than her insistence on using her maiden name instead of her married name, Black). He'd been rather surprised when she had announced to him upon his arrival at the Minsi Sanctuary she was expecting.

She smelled wrong. Most pregnant woman smelled like powder, for some reason, but Circe smelled as she had the last time Remus had seen her.

"Fine. Since you're so talkative, how did the potion work this time?"

"I'm afraid it didn't, as I don't remember anything from last night," Remus admitted, sighing deeply. "But, I feel rather chipper this morning. That's positive."

Remus had returned to the Minsi Sanctuary in North Carolina for the testing a potion to help with his furry little problem. Dumbledore had sent him, in hopes of recruiting for their cause against Voldemort. Circe Hilderbatch happened to be one of the world's most praised Potions Mistresses and had recently become rather determined to find a cure for lycanthropy. Dumbledore's theory was that the werewolves at the sanctuary would be more like Remus, as opposed to the clans he'd been trying to sway for the past eleven months. It was a welcome change, if Remus was honest.

"You're less beat up than usual, true," she said in her crisp New England accent, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. "No bones remained broken. That is an improvement. But, you're the only one."

Remus hummed.

"Have you spoken to your Sirius about his brother?" Circe asked.

"He's not mine," Remus snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Circe. That was uncalled for. I only spoke to James and Lily when I was home. I'm rather out of touch."

An overwhelming amount of sadness came over him. He missed his friends. James. Lily, Peter, Sirius and Atlanta. Hell, he even missed Tom the Not Ghost a bit.

Remus had always liked Atlanta. She was so full of life, craziness and happiness. She was brilliant and now her life had been cut short. More than likely due to her refusal to give up on Regulus even though he chose to take the Dark Mark.

"And I doubt Sirius is all that bothered," Remus admitted. "He and his brother were the farthest thing from close."

"Did you know her well?" Circe asked, eyeing the newspaper on the bedstead. "Atlanta Black? She was American? I've never heard of her."

Remus glanced down. "I can't remember if she relates to your husband's family, but she was an orphan when I met her. She was…interesting. I always had a feeling she was hiding her past, making up crazy stories."

Remus frowned as he stared at the photo of Atlanta Black above the story. It was the formal one she sat for after she'd gotten her Mastery. She was leaning against the side of the frame, looking bored out of her mind.

Remus suddenly wondered what had happened to Tom. He only existed with her magic to tether him to this world. Would Tom still be…existing now that Atlanta was gone?

He shook his head.

"In answer to your first question, she was a friend of mine. She was much closer to Regulus, obviously. He…he joined the Death Eaters when he was sixteen, though. They stopped speaking when she found out. She began to spend more time with Sirius after that, later me. She became a part of our little group of friends our last year at school, when she refused to speak to Regulus any longer. He never gave up on her, though."

"In the end, I guess he took her with him."

Remus looked up and met Circe's bright blue eyes. He sighed, frowning at the statement Circe made.

"I guess that is one way of looking at it. He did love her rather fiercely."

Circe shuddered. The pair fell into silence for a moment.

"I do like that name, though," Circe admitted, picking the paper back up. "It looks nice in print. Atlanta Black."

Remus nodded. "Yes. I do like her name. She let her close friends call her Addy—"

Remus stopped talking.

"That's cute. Why?"

"I was never sure," Remus admitted. "Sometimes, for some reason, I'd accidentally call her Siri. Mostly because she was a lot like Sirius. Not that they looked alike."

"My Sirius would have a fit if I called him Siri," Circe commented, referring to her seven year old son. "I wonder what this one is."

Looking somewhat pensive as she patted her belly again. She caught herself and bustled off. Remus picked up the paper and stared at the photo above the article. Even the photo of Regulus seemed to be in love with Atlanta, as he was staring at her out of the corner of his eye every now and then.

A single tear fell down Remus's cheek for the pair.

"If I ever have a daughter, I'll name her after you. Just like we joked I would," Remus told the photo as Atlanta ran into the frame. He swore to god she winked at him.

He wasn't aware, Circe Hilderbatch was standing in the doorway and heard him. She quickly left after he's spoken, leaving him the only awake soul in the room.

Remus reached over and took the letter from Dumbledore that had been left on the table. He slowly opened it up and read the short note from Dumbledore.

_Remus, _

_I hope this finds you well and in good health. I know you will receive this after the full moon, and will likely read it after you read the paper for that morning. _

_I'll get straight to the matter._

_Atlanta left a will behind and it's come to my attention I'm to execute it. I've given you a copy so you may read it, but it comes down to the fact she has left everything she owned to you. This includes her flat in Glasgow, what gold she had in her vault at the time of her death and as well, oddly, Kreacher. I'm unsure exactly how Regulus managed to turn Kreacher over to Atlanta, but he somehow did. Sirius assures me that Kreacher is indeed no longer an Elf under the command of the House of Black. Kreacher won't take Sirius's orders. This might be due to his being disinherited. Sirius didn't think that mattered. _

_You will also be the owner of all her copy written spells and the gold for these spells will now go into your accounts. _

_At her death, you, Sirius and Lily became the Secret Keeper on the flat in Glasgow. The charm will remain in place until you remove it. Her wards, though, all came down at her death. Sirius assured me that he put new wards in place to keep the flat safe if/when you choose to return. _

_I'm sure this is a lot to take in, so take your time. _

_In closing, please keep me updated on your progress. I look forward to seeing you in July. _

_Best regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus quickly glanced over the copy of the will. He blinked several times. The bank statement, though, was what floored him.

"I can't take all that money," Remus breathed. He looked back at the stack of parchment in his hands and noticed a piece of Muggle paper float out. He picked it up, recognizing Atlanta's handwriting right away.

_31 August 1979_

_Moony,_

_I know you don't want my money. You're freaking out right now. It's not a lot, you know. And what comes in from the spells won't solve all your problems. I want you to use my money for one thing: a potion that is going to be invented that will be expensive, but will allow you to keep your mind during the full moon. I'm sure I've got enough money to keep you in the potion for the rest of your life. _

_Also, you will keep that flat, mister. I love that flat and I want you to never be homeless. I'm sure you've noticed besides the deed for the flat, there's another deed for a piece of land in the middle of nowhere Scotland. That's for you to do your transformations once you're back home. The password to get in and out is Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. A mouthful, I know, but a wizard would never think of that and there's no door knob for a Muggle._

_Oh, Riddler is at the flat. Since I made the internal magic on the flat to remain after I'm gone using something similar to his cube, he has an all access pass to the flat, but he can't leave. Well, he could if he took the cube, but he's still kind of see throughish. I'm telling you this so you don't leave him on his own for too long. At the moment, Padfoot is currently living at the flat, just to let you know. I allowed him to remain and told him in his own letter he could stay for as long as he wanted. _

_You can kicked him out. He is kind of stupid. But, he is really good at annoying Riddler. _

_Oh, and if you ever meet a little girl with black hair and amber eyes— teacher her music, time travel and the joys of worlds unknown. _

_Moony, thank you so much for your friendship these past few years. It was great getting to know you and being accepted into your little Marauder world. _

_Love ya._

_(Please forgive Padfoot. He's a moron, but lovable.)_

_Toto_

Breathing hard, Remus folded everything back up and placed it back in the envelope. He blinked a few times. Suddenly, for the first time in eight months, he desperately wanted to be home. He wanted to see Sirius. Looking at the paper, he noticed Atlanta's photo staring at him. She blinked and nodded.

"Circe?" Remus called out.

Circe appeared, smiling at him. "Yes?"

"I think…I'll only be staying another month," he answered. "I'll try to talk to a few more werewolves here, but then I must go home."

Circe nodded. "You're more than welcome to come back. I'm sure I'll have a lot more trials to do till I get this right."

Remus nodded. "All right. When are you due?"

"November," Circe responded, staring at Remus. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," Remus replied.

"When do you think you'll be back?"

"Early next year," Remus replied. "I need a few months at home to mend bridges."

Circe squeezed his shoulder, "Well, come back. I might have a job for you by that point if you like children. Or, well, babies."

Remus stared at her, wide eyed. "Really? You'd trust me with a baby?"

"Of course. You are gentle and kind. I have a feeling you'd be great with a child," Circe assured. "So, when you come back, if you get along and think you can do it, you can be…the child's tutor."

"A newborn needs a tutor?"

"Well, no. But the nanny the family used with the previous two is much too old to deal with a newborn and would never consent to be down here."

Remus understood what Circe meant. It would be hard to find someone who would be willing to live and take care of a child while surrounded by werewolves. Circe Hilderbatch was one of the few who had no qualms with werewolves.

"I will…speak to Dumbledore," Remus said.

"I know you have your commitment to the Order," Circe said. "But you will still be able to recruit if you're here. Right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Think on it. You've got a few months," she assured. She gave him a smile and ambled off.

Remus sunk back into the pillows and stared out the window across from him, taking in the green, rolling mountains. He looked back at the letter clenched in his hands.

It was time to go home. Mend bridges. Or at least be around when Lily gave birth to her and James' first child.

That was the right choice.

He would deal with the whole being a glorified nanny to the youngest Hilderbatch-Black child later.

* * *

_A/N: So ends this story. FYI: Regulus will reappear in fifteen years, also known as book four of Rewritten in Time. (I've got his waking up written, as I've got the start and end of every book written except the last one I plan to do.) Remember, this story is kind of a set up for the Rewritten in Time series staring Draco and Harry. So, while it not be a "typical" happy ending, there will be a happy ending at some point. For all. *wink, wink*_

_Thank you all for reading, reviewing and following!_


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